Dance with the Shadows

It is not always dark and it is not always bright,

Can you imagine, day without night?

The dance between dark and light,

Makes life such a delight.

As we edge into the last week of the year, I would like to wish you all ‘Happy Holidays’! No matter how you would describe 2025, it is sure to have reflected different colours of the rainbow, at some point or other. Remember to whisper gratitude in the silent moments between breaths, for all that went well.

I wish you every good thing that life can bring; and may the new year usher in the gifts you need, to live the life you are meant to lead.

See you in 2026!

With love,

Sheila Bett.

I Cut my Hair

Cutting my hair is not something I do every other day. In fact, in all memory, I have only cut my hair 3 times. The first time I considered a big chop was after rocking a perm back in high school and watching it slowly shrivel up to about a third of what it used to be in volume. You see, I have fine hair. It can puff up a bit, but is usually quite easy to hold together in a hairband. In an attempt to save my stringy, struggling hair and simultaneously try a new look, I cut it into a bob.

Short hair on women has always looked so chic to me, it would easily warrant a second look, and gave the wearer a sense of autonomy. Think bombshells like: Halle Berry, Toni Braxton and Nia Long. Later came: Pink, Charlize Theron and Emma Thompson (in her senior years). Most of the women I found stunning or cool were rocking super short hair back in the 90s, well into the 2000s and beyond. I could not resist that bob phase.

That first big chop was my ode to these women, and a chance to live out the fantasy of being short haired. Edgy yet feminine, a powerful combination. It was not that deep.

The next time I took to the scissors was when I returned to my natural, coil-textured hair. I had grown out my bob and was done with straight hair. The natural hair movement was burgeoning the world over. A tidal wave of black women in the diaspora returning to their roots and sweeping in with new products and tutorials to celebrate textured hair. 

The transition started off with growing out my roots, skipping the retouches and trying to style it as other curly and coily chics. One evening, while spending a mellow afternoon in my flat, I decided to chop off all the straight bits. It was completely spontaneous and exhilarating. I could not wait to meet this new version of me, a version I had no known memory of.

Meanwhile, in my personal life, I had made an executive decision on my heart. I was going to stop letting myself down and leave a relationship that had been largely dysfunctional. They say a woman shaves her hair when she is making a change. Of course! It makes perfect sense that we would want to shed this crown that sits atop our heads, in the monumental moments of our lives; both good and bad.

Hair determines our appearance, it shapes our faces and makes an impression on those who see us. When you make this inner choice to change; a choice that impacts your life greatly, you may need to see it manifest in the physical world for it to feel real. 

The shedding of hair; grown out of old, dead cells to make way for younger, healthier ones; is the ultimate symbol of becoming a new version of yourself.

Hair is not a big deal to women alone, but men too. Most men will admit to having a special relationship with their barber; a brotherhood of sorts. Trust, understanding and consistency are needed to form that bond; mutual loyalty is the payoff. For some men, most of their hair falls off at some point. They reach a crossroads: to let it all go or power through; holding on to the very last strand until the wheels fall off. Balding marks a major shift in men’s adult lives and gives them a distinguished or distinct look. Depends on who you ask. It is also the moment when their departure from youth begins to seem truly apparent.

Many men will envy those who keep a full head of hair, well into their sunset years. Hair is not just hair: it is status, it is a position in the attractiveness scale, it is a sign of aging when it starts to grey. And yet, as India Arie sings, “I am not my hair”. She’s right, and though we are indeed, not our hair, it is a significant part of who we appear to be.

About 10 years have passed and the scissors are back in my coils: teasing, releasing and snipping away. This time, I am a new-ish mom, living abroad, learning a new language and reshaping my future. It is a truly transformational time. As the days go by, I start to toy with the idea of chopping it all off, having it shorter than ever before. An idea that might be subconsciously tied to my inner workings of defining this new era. An era veiled in layers of unknowns and limitless possibilities. 

I am starting to find my footing in uncertainty. I have battled with it for more years than I can count. So this time, the big chop is a coming to terms with myself, while surrendering to the process with a symbolic gesture. The other part of it is more practical. After all, I am not the first toddler mom to find shorter hair more manageable. One less thing to think about.

So bye bye tried and tested tresses, it is time for a rest. Hello, to a fresh new look, one I am starting to get used to.

Have you cut your hair before, watched, as heaps of it fell to the floor? Did it mean anything to you beyond style? Share your thoughts below.