The Sister Thread
My sister has been cutting my hair for 15 years. She’s shaved my head during my worst trichotillomania relapses. She has stood with me through cancer, chemo, regrowth, setbacks. She has held the weight of my frustration, my grief, and my shame with me. All the invisible emotional labor that comes with caring for someone whose hair holds their trauma.
So when Chris asked that question… he wasn’t asking about technique.
He was opening a wound we both carry.
This stranger on stage was reading us both deeply and instinctively. The way stylists sometimes can in the first ten minutes of a consultation. It’s a sixth sense we develop behind the chair. We read people. We see patterns. We feel the emotional undercurrent before anyone says a word.
But here I was… the client, not the stylist. The one being seen instead of the one doing the seeing.
And then he said it, “When someone asks you not to cut their short hair too short, what they’re really saying is ‘Don’t make me look ugly.’”
My eyes began to water up with emotion, the release of a quiet burden. Because he was right. I was afraid of looking ugly. Afraid of what short hair symbolized for me: chemo, fragility, trichotillomania, loss of control. I was waiting for my hair to be “long enough” again, as if that would make me whole. Chris didn’t see any of that. He saw shape, structure and movement.
He carved a haircut around my face that made me feel HOT.
I felt beautiful.
I felt proud.
I felt like myself.
It inspired me and reminded me why I do this. Hair doesn’t make you beautiful, it’s the right cut that helps you see the beauty you already have. This experience is what made me trust him and his products.