Kiana

I came to the decision that I wanted to chop all my hair off, so I did. Now I’m donning a pixie cut which makes me feel like a giddy kid all the time. The past five days of my life have been filled with the question “why?” from peers and acquaintances, and my answer, “I’m better now for this, much happier, and unencumbered.” Whenever I defend my hairstyle, I remember DJ Khaled whispering his “They don’t want you to” gospels; in my case it’s “They don’t want you to get a haircut, and feel good about it.”

Three or so days ago, I spoke up to a boy who rents a room in our house for being so loud that he ended waking me and my grandmother at 3 AM. To my surprise, I let out my string of words in a tremulous voice. I didn’t feel scared, I felt determined—to call someone out for their tactless, disrespectful behavior. I felt powerful, although I might have to practice steadying my voice.

I have always wanted to feel unencumbered. Lately, I’ve been doing things for myself, for my sanity, like speaking up in uncomfortable situations—albeit in a shaky voice—and fighting for what I believe. (See: Me constantly, cheerfully exclaiming to my friends, “Claim your space! Don’t shrink yourself!”) Where I’ll take myself in the long run, I don’t know. For now, these are my means to feeling unencumbered. ♦