The big chop has been a booming occasion within the black community in the last couple of years, with the natural hair movement making a prolific comeback. Many people have confidently taken the leap into what I call the ‘to be confirmed’ stage. That stage is the midway point, and effectively the sacrificial lamb, for the abundance of “fleeky” hair that will grow back. But not in my case. I’ve done the big chop, and the action itself felt very much like entering the promised land.
In 2012, after colouring my hair every colour under the sun and being unhappy with my latest hair style at the time, I opted to shaving all my hair off. I wanted the Rihanna pixie cut, but as I was not willing to perm my hair, I was left with a 3D version. It was very much an impulsive decision, and one that I have never openly admitted, but regretted deeply. My goal after that was to ride out the phase as painlessly as possible and grow my hair back as soon as I could.
This time around though, cutting my hair was a decision that I pondered on for a while. The more I spoke to people about it the longer it took for me to make up my mind, as everyone had an opinion on me cutting off my hair. A common thread that kept being mentioned was the view that I had “good hair” that was long, and therefore I shouldn’t “ruin” it. It felt really isolating repeating constantly during discussions that I needed a change, especially because I felt too ashamed to give more context to why I needed this change so badly.