forced haircuts

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There has always been protests against forced marriages and forced labour but never against forced haircuts. WHYYYY? Every time I step into the saloon knowing that this appointment isn’t just for a wash and blow or some hair treatment, but also a haircut, I can feel the excruciating pain of my human rights leaving me. Whatever. Who cares if I’m over exaggerating! Girls will be girls.

My dad has always had to drag me to the saloon each time my hair needs to be cut, or at least when he thinks it needs to be cut. I think it’s perfectly fine for girls to have their own opinion when it comes to how they want their hair to be unless it’s crazy messy and you can barely see their faces then, yes, a haircut would be a pretty good idea. But my hair, on the other hand, is at a length it has been at for years and who wouldn’t want a change? I’m sure everyone around me is bored of how I look. Everyone except for Daddy of course. *rolls eyes* My mum had to give me one of her old shirts to get me to leave the house.

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Once I got to the saloon, I didn’t want to let my ponytail down but I had to. *sobs* Then the hairstylist walked in happily until he saw me with his scissors in hand.

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It may not seem a lot, but I was very proud that I even allowed the threatened hairstylist to come near me. Poor thing, I’m sure I’m not his very favourite customer.

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I needed all the comfort food I could get!

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The results weren’t so bad after all : THERE WAS NO DIFFERENCE.

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