Ode to My Bangs

I've had bangs for almost my entire life. If there's anything I could call my trademark, they'd be it. There was a dark period in my life (let's all say it together....middle school) when I decided to go bangs-less, and needless to say, looking back on the evidence of that time is traumatic for me. So, for all intents and purposes, I've had the same haircut forever.

Exhibit A: Age Four

Exhibit B: Age 21

My friends and family frequently ask me if I'm ever going to grow them out, and without missing a beat, I give one of two answers: "Absolutely not!" or "I'm thinking about it." Both of these are true. On the one hand, change is good, and it's probably time for one. On the other hand, though, I love my hair and I've grown so accustomed to it. I can't imagine changing it; I'm terrified of what I'd look like if I did! My main reason for going back to the bangs in my early high school years was because I wanted to hide my gigantic forehead (read: fivehead) and this seemed like just the way to do it.

At the end of the day, hair identity crisis aside, I love my bangs. They've become so much a part of who I am--I'm known as the girl with the bangs, and though people sometimes draw exaggerated Zooey Deschanel-esque comparisons, I can't say I mind. For better or for words, they've become my security blanket--even when they get so long I can barely see, even when I'm working out and they're bobbing in front of me, getting in my way--I love them just the same.