One of the first things I ever spelled to my mom was that I needed a better haircut. Specifically, I asked for something cool. This led to my mom and teacher Googling, “cool haircuts.” And can you picture two middle-aged women trying to decide what is cool for a fifteen year old’s hair? Surprisingly, it turned out pretty good.
In the following years, I rocked some good cuts.
And then last week, this happened.
My head was itching and my pesky autistic body thought a pair of scissors could fix the situation. Clearly that was incorrect.
My dad had to shave my head to try to salvage some degree of respectability. Now my head itches in the way new hair coming in itches.
I spend a lot of time thinking about how my brain and body are operating on different platforms. It’s like my body is a Mac, and my brain is an Android. The two can work together, but it takes a lot of effort… and it is not intuitive.
Being autistic is something I am still learning to navigate. Since the scissors only brought more problems, I am going to work on leaving future haircuts to my stylist.