So you decided to get bangs.
For a second, you think this is the best time in your life. But your bangs actually want to make your life a living hell.
No one told you how much work would be involved.
And you will never be able to recreate how good they looked in the salon.
You'll try to work out but they will always be there: a sweating, flopping, stringy mess drowning your forehead.
You'll try to pin your bangs to the side but quickly realize you look like you're a 12-year-old girl.
They'll get into your eyes and interfere with your sight.
They never care if you need them to cooperate.
They'll grow to a weird length and you'll have to try and push them aside.
And you start to improvise new ways to wear your hair so that the bangs don't show.
You feel like growing them out, but it's too hard.
They don't care if you don't want the commitment. THEY DON'T CARE.
And you make the tough decision that it's easier to just keep cutting them.
But one day, your hairdresser asks if you want your bangs trimmed and you finally have the strength to say, "No."
And your hair is starting to look normal again.
But then you see someone look awesome with bangs.
All your good memories start to flood back.
And you know, in your heart, that you have to go back to them.
I'll never leave you again.
