Yesterday afternoon, I finally got that hairstyle I'd admired for years

.

Standing outside the barbershop, the wind blew and my hair felt lighter — so did I.

01

I'd liked this hairstyle for a long time.

The "hime cut" — also called a princess cut. Short on both sides (like a lop-eared bunny, haha), ear-length, clean, playful — like some kind of lightness made visible.

Every time I scrolled past someone with this cut, I'd linger a moment longer, then quietly envy them. I never even dared to imagine getting it myself.

Because I always worried —

• What would the elders back home say? Would I embarrass my parents?
• Would my partner think it's weird?
• What would coworkers think? What if it looked bad and people secretly laughed?

After running through all those scenarios, the answer was always the same: forget it, just get something safe, a simple trim.

02

It wasn't that I didn't want it — I just always ran every decision through other people's eyes first. Every reluctant "forget it" had a row of imaginary faces watching me from behind.

Yesterday, after washing my hair, the barber asked, "How do you want it?"

I finally asked the question: "I want a hime cut — would it suit me?"

He looked at me for two seconds. "It would. You can pull it off. Go for it."

That one sentence. Zero hesitation.

Let's do it.

While he was cutting, I realized — this time I hadn't mentally consulted a single person. Not the village relatives, not my boyfriend, not my coworkers, not anyone.

I only thought about one thing — I like this hairstyle, so I'm getting it.

Just that one thing.

03

The moment I looked in the mirror, I smiled.

Not because it was stunning (well, okay, partly that too, hah

), but because I suddenly felt — this person is me.

(Looks even better from a distance, haha)

All those times I said "forget it" — it wasn't because I didn't like it. It was because I'd turned other people's eyes into my own standards, making decisions for myself inside their imaginary judgments.

As if my choices existed to manage other people's impressions of me, not to make myself comfortable. And suddenly I realized — for all these years, I'd been living in a courtroom I built myself.

That courtroom was empty. Every judge in it was someone I'd invented.

This hairstyle — some people might love it, some might find it strange.

Both are fine.

People who like me will see that I love it. People who don't — well, they don't.

Even if I regret it someday, so what? Hair grows back. Two months and it's back to normal. What's the big deal?

But that moment of "only thinking about whether I like it" — that won't disappear.

That moment was the most naturally genuine thing that's happened.

04

A lot of things aren't impossible — we've just never thought about them purely for ourselves, not even once.

Try it, and you'll see how freeing it feels.

If you've had something small you've been putting off, something that's been on your mind — try asking yourself just once: do I like it?

Don't ask anyone else. Just this once, follow your heart. Listen only to your own answer.