This is a personal first, a new entry to my lore. I decided to become a short haired siren. I am not the first woman to cut my hair and won’t be the last. Probably wasn’t the only woman seated with scissors at the ready on the same day. It’s still a moment to remember for me. It’s said that when a woman cuts her hair, she’s going to change her life. Change already started but a visual difference adds to the fun.
I hid behind my hair. There was no big chop when I went natural, just a slow transition. Convinced that my “big head” and “strong face” needed follicular volume. If what people told me was true, is it advantageous to highlight those features further? The idea of cutting my hair casually crossed my mind. Short hair looks good on so many women, but I wasn’t sure if I was one of them.
If it didn’t work, I could put on a wig or get box braids until it grew back. I prefer to not add the fears of lifting lace or traction alopecia to my life. In October of 2025, I sat at my desk listening to Olivia Dean’s “The Art of Loving”. God, I’m gonna miss this house / But I guess I’m moving out Sunday morning. It was my second listen and I paid closer attention. God, I used to love this hair / Now there’s something in the air / Something calling. Ms. Dean delivered the chorus on “Lady, Lady” and I almost burst into tears. Overwhelmed by the desire to quit my job and cut my hair.
I wanted to make radical choices for myself, shift my timeline. Maybe a cut on or near my birthday, a new year shift. If I waited, then I wasn’t being rash. Also, I wasn’t interested in a new hairstyle becoming a “thing” at work. Knotless braids cause enough commotion, chopping it all off? Spare me the spectacle.
I searched online for inspiration and reference photos. Deciding on four slightly different images of Black women with short natural hair and well-defined curls and coils. One served as my main (mane, if you’ll indulge me) inspiration. The woman in the photo is stunning, and I wanted my hair to look like hers. Similar to how I felt about Aaliyah’s swooped bang when I was 10.
A haircut wasn’t enough, I needed color. I have a deep affection for color 30 braiding hair. Faux locs and box braids, the color looks good on me. I feel good when Bronze Bri makes an appearance. No question, no back and forth, my trusty 30 was the perfect reference.
My birthday came and went. A friend regularly asked when I planned on cutting my hair. My noncommittal response led her to establish a deadline, the end of the first quarter of 2026. I laughed and agreed, I needed a push. She reconfirmed every time she saw me, “March, right?” I nodded or said yes. Turned out I wouldn’t need to worry about the office reaction. I booked my consultation.
The consultation with Angela of Styles by Ang covered the current state and health of my hair, desired services, and booking my appointment. Finally, my curiosity and desire outweighed anyone’s unsolicited commentary. I took note of my last pre-cut wash day and the last night banding my hair. I returned to the salon on a sunny Wednesday at the end of March. A mix of nerves and excitement as the designer hair cut started. Three snips in, I felt lighter.
Weight dropped to the floor and down the cape with each shear of the scissors. Concerns, uncertainties, doubts, fears fell away. My hair never felt heavy, I didn’t notice it most of the time. But I think it held my feelings and took a lot of that weight with it. I had made the right choice. To maintain an element of surprise I occupied myself with my book and phone.
Post protein treatment and pre-styling I peeked and panicked a little. Was I going to look like I had a high-top fade? Oh, we might need to take more hair off. I decided to chill out and wait; I don’t know anything about styling short hair. Patience paid off. My curls showed with the application of a sea moss gel. Relief soared into delight; I loved what I was seeing. I took a picture under the dryer and sent it to my best friend.
Dried and sprayed down, another salon customer complimented my hair. I was ecstatic and called my mother as soon as I got outside. Back home I continued to admire my new look, it was better than I could have hoped for or imagined. Step one complete, step two confirmed for the following week.
While I don’t need approval and should not seek it, I was very happy with positive responses from everyone who knows me or sees me regularly. If we all like the cut and styling, just wait for the bronze casting.
Ahead of my second appointment, I worried if the color I chose was too light. None of my old pictures had enough natural light to ease my mind. We would have to wait and see. I read my book while Ms. Angela mixed and applied the color 30 match. Under the dryer I fought the urge to scratch my scalp. After Ms. Angela’s process check, I decided to do my own. I assumed the color required multiple steps and was pleasantly shocked to see my hair already a golden bronze.
A stop under the steamer, the bowl for a wash and conditioning, and back to the chair for styling. Ms. Angela explained which comb she used based on how sections of my hair responded, when I said I needed to watch and take notes. I can coil my hair with the comb at the front, top, and sides and finger coil in the back. Return to the dryer to set the curls and I was ready to go.
I made the right choice, I feel amazing. My hair may have always wanted to be short, and I didn’t think it would work. Didn’t believe I could pull it off. None of the reasons were my own, the thoughts weren’t original to me. They came from other people. Clearly, I need to follow my own desires and intuition. I know what I want and what I want is what’s best for me. Summer as a short-haired siren, this will be fun.
