The Story Behind My Short Hair

Drastic? I think so.

Breaking news!
Well, if you've been following me on my social medias then this isn't even a breaking news...

But!
If you haven't!
Then breaking news it is!

I CUT MY HAIR SHORT.

Like, real short.
Super short.
Pixie hair short.
Undercut in barbershop short.

Why, you ask?
And how?
Well, let's take a look back...

Just a month ago, I used to have a barely-longer shoulder-length hair, probably it'd pass as a lob (the acronym for long bob) (I think?). For as long as I could remember well over primary school, I've never taken any risks in my hairstyles (except hair color, which I love to experiment with once in a while). My hair used to revolve around the "safe" styles: long shaggy, long layered, bob, lob, or this-hairstyle-I-can't-name-because-the-last-time-I-went-to-salon-was-when-I-finished-high-school improvisation, DIY haircut — with side or front bangs, some twist of shaved inner-back side to make it less frizzy, etc.

Here are the revolution of my hair (through my Instagram page, in a chronological order):






Pretty basic, huh? Well, except the blond hair color. I could say that I got people's eyes all over me every single time I was seen in public. Heh. A bold move from someone who hates the spotlight, huh? And I ruined my hair due to the extensive bleaching dear God... thrice of bleaching process! Whose hair wouldn't get whacked and stretchy? That was nasty, but it's for another story (hey that rhymes).

Since I like to experiment with my hair color so much, it got really damaged. Like, so damaged there's no turning back type of damaged. My mom scolded me because I basically ruined my hair cuticles. And she was right... 😓

Time after time, I was slowly getting too lazy to style my hair because I needed to flat-iron it every morning and it took up too much of my time, I slathered hair mask every time I wash my hair yet it was still frizzy and unruly, and it would go crazy in the middle of the day when I was out and about. Bad hair day was my day to day life. Basically. I just got to tired of my hair and I was frustrated.

So one day, I just had a random thought which is to cut my hair super short. I consulted it with Alf and my mom, and they both told me to do it. I started looking for references to see which type of short hairstyle would suit me and my face structure the best. All I could think while I was on the journey to short hair was, "it's getting real," and feeling so nervous because I haven't drastically changed my hairstyle since forever... I could only remember cutting my hair super short when I was a 3rd grader (which is more than 10 years ago).

Of course there was this fear of post-haircut dissatisfaction people would potentially feel after cutting their hair at a salon; whether it's the wrong kind of hairstyle, the hairstylist fails to understand what the customer want, the wrong technique being used, the hairstyle turning out bad on the customer... just the horrible things that could possibly ruin someone's appearance fatally.

But oh well, I'm a "fuck it" kind of person so of course I braved myself to take the risk, thinking about the life-changing experience I could possibly miss out if I don't do it.

On a sunny Thursday just two days before my birthday, Alf took me to a salon near his house. The name is Exelso Salon, located in Rungkut near UBAYA campus. The price was merely IDR 25K (approx. USD 2) for a haircut. I got my hair cut by a typical stylish middle-aged lady, she was nice. Seeing my hair getting chopped bit by bit was a scary experience, especially since I was going for a drastic change. After cutting my hair super short, she took her electric razor to make the undercut style.

Boy, oh boy, oh boy.

Hearing the razor buzzing was EVEN SCARIER. I was totally intimidated by the sound. And when I was it got closer and closer to my hair... I just opened my eyes wide in horror and fear. God. The only thing I was thinking was to make this end as quick as possible. What a scary experience.

And the result?


IT LOOKS GREAT!
I love it!
I look different, and fresh, and great!

The first benefit I could feel immediately was the practicality for the hot weather my city is known for. Let's face it; Surabaya is like a hell-hole. It's a constant 32 degrees Celcius and above every day here. Plus it's hella humid. One would think to get their hair up if they were to have a long hair, and I used to do it all the time; I'd get bummed out if I left my hair clip at home because I'd have to be stuck with frizzy, troublesome hair that covered my ears and below area. I'd end up sweating a lot and that wasn't nice; I hate it. And now that I have a hella short hair, there's no need for a hair clip! And it always feels breezy! I just love it.

This is definitely one of the best decisions I've ever made in my life. So long, long hair! I'm so over you. Hello, short hair! I'm keeping this hairstyle FOREVER!

Dear My Future Children

I'm not letting my kids to live in such a toxic world where everything is in a chaotic state and technology development couldn't even help humans to humanize humankind;

I'm not letting my kids to live without any security of their future wellbeing especially in regards natural resources and other essentials like employment and settlement for whichever municipality they'd choose to settle in the world is still an ugly place to live;

I'm not going to throw them into a dungeon where a man is a wolf to man and make them wish they'd never been born instead because they didn't even asked to be born in the first place and frankly that'd be the most heartbreaking thing I'd heard because it is the most heartbreaking thing I've ever heard for I've listened to people that I love saying it in front of me and I could watch the lights in their eyes slowly faded away and I couldn't afford my future kids to feel the same;

Because I want them to have the best and I want them to have all the good things in the world even though that'd be impossible but I still want them to live in a better world where everyone could love whoever they want to love and everyone could believe whatever they want to believe and intersectionality is a thing and everyone is equal and humans are thriving for heaven on earth creating a better place for everyone.

But the world isn't ready yet;
Neither am I,
Neither are my future kids.

I'm in Love with the Cault Cault

Photo credit

Cheesy headline, yes I know. I couldn't help but to be punny in every chance I got.

Ah, holiday. A word so blissful yet so surreal when we're a university student. Yes, the classes might be off, the exams might be on halt, but trails of those somehow would still get to you eventually. No, I'm not talking about the upcoming new semester coming just next week in my campus (yeek! I freak out whenever I think about having to snooze through my blasting alarms that I set to go off every five minutes the night before on daily basis, AGAIN). I'm talking about the campus business—y'know, writing some stuffs about things that you actually like and might enjoy but you just can't because you're being forced to (that's an important keyword there, forced)...

...and that's what I actually went through these last three days.

One of my beloved lecturer that I couldn't stop admiring, Mrs. Kandi, gave my best friend, Steffi, and I a project to help her with her research mainly about power relations between the state and LGBT community as a subculture in Indonesia. The main samples came from Facebook statuses of Indonesians, the pro-LGBT and the con-LGBT, that contained some keywords, like 'LGBT', 'homo', and such; then we analyze the samples with relevant theories. Me, being the one who got the responsibility to analyze it more about the power relations going on between those two mentioned above, had to seek for references related to it.

When you heard about the term 'power relations', what was the thing that first came to your mind? If you ask me, personally I'd describe it as the division of power between the oppressor and the oppressed at first. In some way, that might be correct; but turned out it wasn't so simple according to some eyeglasses wearing, preppy looking philosopher.

It is Michel Foucault, a France born and raised philosopher and social theorist well-known for his postmodernist view. Several of his most famous works include Discipline and Punish, Power/Knowledge, The Order of Things, Madness of Civilization, The Archaeology of Knowledge, and The History of Sexuality.

I myself had a fascination for Foucault when I started to learn about critical theories in university—along with the head-start of my burning intellectual infatuation towards Jacques Derrida, a philosopher too but mostly known for his contribution to post-structural and deconstruction (I'm so big on post-structural *insert heart emoji here*). My lecturers often mentioned Foucault in class and brought up some of his theories when they were giving examples of analytical framework to view and analyze one problem or another. They also relentlessly kept reminding the whole class to look him and his ideas up and learn more about them. And so eventually I couldn't keep my hands off my phone to type his name on Google Search after numerous occasion of my lecturers telling me to do so.

And boy did I regret my decision not to do that earlier.

Because really, his works are magnificent—very thought-provoking, completely mind-blowing. It is truly a vitamin to the brain, an academically euphoric material to satiate your thirsts for knowledge; it never cease to leave me thinking and analyzing and wanting for more—a masterpiece in the form of texts on the sheets of paper. Definitely a pinnacle of theory craftsmanship in the 20th century.

The professor in my department once said something about 'text orgasm', in which when your brain felt such an ecstatic sensation after you read cerebral stimulating texts... and I think I just done had that.

Man, I love doing this.

I didn't lose you, but you're long gone

Photo credit

Four years,
Two breakups,
And everything in between.

The first year, when we first knew each other. Social media really is an amazing invention. Without it, we couldn't have possibly met. I still remember that night clearly, you were hurting because of your ex-boyfriend. Red-eyed, I went to the coffee shop late night only to listen to you cry.

The second year, when we got busier. But we still made sure we got time to each other. Even when we didn't, we still knew we had each other. You, being a sophomore in university. And me, being a freshman in the same university as you. I was euphoric, we could meet more frequently. Moreover when you told me about your new boyfriend, I couldn't be happier for you.

The third year, when we got closer. We watched a band concert together, the very same band we both were obsessing over, completing our promise we made two years ago. I still remember that night clearly, you were waiting for me to be finished with my work at the office, Exhausted, I went to the coffee shop late night only to exchange conversations with you.

The fourth year, when we got distant. I finally had a boyfriend, we might not go out as much as we used to do. But I still regarded you as someone precious. And then you met these two girls, especially this one girl you went out so many times with. I couldn't help but kept thinking to myself,
"She got something that I couldn't possibly have, she got so much more than me."
I started to feel replaced. And then you did the same to your boyfriend. Before I knew it, all of a sudden I was no longer inside any of your friends list on every social media. At that moment I knew, you are no longer the same person as the one you were. You left people who made you you behind. Replacing every single one of them with someone new.

The first heartbreak drew us together,
But the second one just drew us further.

Everything in between was some bittersweet memories.
Sweet, because our laughter keep echoing in every moment we shared.
Bitter, because in the end memories are what's left.

Thank you for the memories.

-

2013-2016
Is this really the end?