Mid life crisis…bangs and I cut them.
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It started as a restless itch, that strange mix of nostalgia and rebellion that often creeps in somewhere between “settled” and “what now?” One glance in the mirror and I saw a woman who had spent years doing what she was supposed to do — responsible, patient, dependable. But beneath that, there was a quiet voice whispering, “You’ve forgotten how to surprise yourself.” And so, armed with kitchen scissors and a moment of questionable confidence, I decided to listen.
Snip. Snip.
It wasn’t about the bangs themselves — though, let’s be honest, they’re either fabulous or a cry for help depending on the lighting. It was about control. About change. About proving that I could still be spontaneous in a life that had grown a little too predictable. Somewhere between work, family, bills, and endless routines, I’d lost touch with that fearless version of myself — the one who didn’t overthink every little thing.
And yet, as the first uneven strand fell, I couldn’t help but laugh. It felt reckless and freeing all at once — like teenage rebellion wrapped in adult exhaustion. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t following a plan. I was just doing something because I wanted to.
When I looked up again, there she was — a slightly different woman, staring back with a spark in her eyes. Not perfect bangs, not even symmetrical ones, but something real. Something alive.
Maybe that’s what a midlife crisis really is — not falling apart, but waking up. Realizing that life doesn’t stop being yours just because the years start to pile up. It’s the quiet rebellion of choosing yourself again — even if it starts with a pair of scissors and a wild idea.
So yes, I cut bangs. Maybe they’ll grow out weird. Maybe I’ll regret it tomorrow. But today? Today I feel brave, unpredictable, and beautifully human. And that’s worth every crooked strand.
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