My Life As A U2 Song

When I was 16, I was upset about a boy and decided to do what I saw in a teen drama movie, (guess which one), and cut off all my hair. My mother hated it. She told me that thick curly hair like mine deserved to be shown off, and I never cut my hair more than a trim again.

When I was 17, I was upset over the same boy, and decided to cut my own bangs. My mother hated them, and until three months ago, would still tell me to get rid of them and show off my face. I decided to keep the bangs until recently, when much to my mothers excitement, I decided she was right- they did make me look immature.

A week after my mother died, I decided to cut off all my hair and keep the bangs. After all, I had no one to tell me the truth about how I looked when I went home. At a salon way too expensive for me and definitely too fancy, I pretended to listen as the hair dresser told me my hair is too thick for short hair. I didn’t care, and did it anyway.

My mother would always put me in line when it came to money. I work an entry level entertainment job and have loans to pay. Needless to say, money isn’t a luxury I have quite yet. “Rent doesn’t grow on trees, Mah-ris-sah” was a sentence my mother yelled at least once a week. And I listened. Sure, I didn’t need to go out to dinner with my friends all the time or go out every weekend, but as long as my mother knew I was putting a chunk of my pay check into savings, she was happy.

A week after my mother died, I decided I did not have limitations anymore. Who’s going to yell at me now if I get too many packages from ASOS? Who cares?! Let’s spend it all! Three fraudulent charge alerts, (much to my fathers dismay, hi Andy!), a new wardrobe, and 20 liquid lipsticks I was fully aware I did not need to purchase later, I decided that wasn’t enough. I still didn’t feel whatever it was I was hoping I would feel.

I wasn’t satisfied with how my time was being spent after my mother died. I kept surrounding myself with people who I love more than anything, but I still just couldn’t shake the feeling that I could be doing something else that would make me feel better. I made up excuse after excuse for why I couldn’t stay in the house, when I knew sure as hell I didn’t belong anywhere else than with my family. I couldn’t help it- I was looking for something else.

Multiple excuses, two hours in a car driving aimlessly by myself while sobbing to Adele, fireworks, and a rest stop in Pennsylvania later, I finally realized that I’ll never find what I’m looking for. I’ll never find that feeling I’m seeking, because what I’m looking for isn’t here anymore.

21 days ago, the most important piece of me was taken away. When my mother died, a piece of me died. I can cut off all the hair I want. I can spend all the money I do or do not have. I can drive all the way to California. I can cross oceans and jump out of planes, but I’ll still never find what I’m looking for.

I’ll never feel the way I did 22 days ago again. I’m not going to say that that’s okay, because it is not, nor will it ever be okay. But, it’s something that I will learn to deal with- and hopefully, not go bald or in debt in the process.