Cutting My Own Hair

Never cut your hair when you’re in a reckless mood.

It was a Saturday, a day I won’t soon for­get. My hair was giving me fits. It was the perfect length for doing nothing I wanted and everything I didn’t want. It didn’t help that I was under pressure in other areas of my life. I had a deadline to meet for my father’s catalog, and I was leaving for a trip in a few days. I was feeling stressed out and started blaming my hair. “My life would be so much better if my hair wasn’t so stupid!” I thought. I need­ed a haircut in a big way. The only problem was that I didn’t want to shell out the money to pay someone to cut it. It grew back so quickly it was like burning money! “I’ll cut my own hair!” I decided. It would be kinda fun. I was in a devil-may-care, reckless mood ready to do anything to change my situation.

Never cut your hair when you’re in a reckless mood.

I got out my grandfather’s old electric clippers, a pair of scissors my dad used for trimming his mustache, and my mom’s upright mirror so I could see the back of my head. I was set! The electric clipper hummed and the scissors snipped; everything seemed fine. My coarse black hair began to pile up on the bathroom floor.

Then something happened that I didn’t think was possible-my hair started looking worse. My reckless mood disappeared. I started getting desperate. “I’ve got to fix it!” I was in a panic. The more I cut the worse it got. I paused for a moment and looked at my hair. It was uneven, too short in the back, and starting to stick up. I was at a very important point. I had a decision to make. I could either stop cutting, admit I had made a mistake and wait for it to grow out or keep cutting in hope that things would improve. I made the wrong choice - I kept cutting.

“I’ve come this far, “1 thought. “I might as well keep going.” I didn’t want to have to crawl to a hairdresser and ask for help; I didn’t want anyone to notice my hair! I’d be shamed if people found out I’d botched my hair. I’d just have to fix it myself. I contin­ued cutting, and my hair continued to look worse and worse. Now I was cutting more out of frustration than anything else. “I hate my hair!” Snip! Snip! “Why isn’t this working?” Snip! Snip!

Finally, I stopped. I laid down the clip­pers and surveyed the damage. I was a mess. I looked like someone had run me over with a lawn mower. Suddenly the permanence of my situation hit me. I looked like an idiot, and there was no way to glue my hair back on. “I’m not going to show my face in public for months,” I said. I felt so embarrassed, so foolish.

Why, if this is so embarrassing, am I sharing it with you? I’m sharing this story to warn those who are in their own way “cutting their own hair”- those who are trying to fix their problems by themselves. How often do we as humans, and especially teenagers, make mistakes or get involved with something potentially dangerous but refuse to ask for advice or assistance? Too proud to admit our mistake, we just keep going hoping things improve. Ashamed that we can’t handle a situation, we just keep “cutting” until the problem is too big to hide.

Your problem source might be a roman­tic relationship with someone. It might be friends who are dabbling in alcohol or drugs. It might be as seemingly harmless as a little lie to your parents, a little deception. You might be at the point I was while cutting my hair: you can either stop in your tracks, admit your mistake, and get help or continue trying to hide your error, hoping no one will notice. Please, don’t try and fix it yourself. Ask for help; admit your mistake. Go to God first and then your parents or pastor. Don’t be reckless and think things can’t get any worse. Trust me, they can. Stop while you’re able to. God will see you through. Don’t make the mistake I made and try to cut your own hair. I’m still living with the consequences.