Long, layered, subtly highlighted with soft tousled waves, and the source of my confidence for the majority of 44 years. I could feel heads turn when I walked into a bar. Getting swiped right on felt fairly effortless, a free drink from a stranger if I tossed my hair just right. It didn’t hurt that the long flowing hair was accompanied with curves in the right places. A night out wasn’t fun unless I gave someone my number or was able to flirt with a cute guy. When did I start living for the male gaze in this way? When did my life start revolving around the approval of men?

For a long time I saw life as a linear path; a list of things to be checked off with the ultimate goal being marriage and a family of my own. It wasn’t until I stepped off this path that I could take a hard look at how I was living and why. Why had I been working so hard for love and acceptance from relationships that were based on looks but no substance? The men I was meeting may have liked the way I looked, my style, or how I wore jeans; but did anyone actually know me as a person? Every relationship I started was shallow, unstable, based on very little, and left me feeling a little more empty. I remember always trying too hard: to be funny enough, sexy enough, interesting enough, successful enough, but it was never enough. I found myself jumping through hoops to impress these guys, but never stopped to think whether they were impressing me. How did these men hold so much power over my happiness? Why did I give my power away so easily?

This year I told my hairstylist to cut bangs. I didn’t think it through, didn’t “try it on” a virtual picture of myself, I didn’t even look up different styles. I just showed her one image I liked and asked her to chop away. It may not have been intentional at the time, but what I really wanted was to eliminate the easy connection. I was taking away the thing that made me easy on the eyes, or the “right” type of girl to date. It was interesting how safe it made me feel. I wasn’t trying to be anything anymore. I wasn’t trying to have the perfect hair, perfect body, perfect personality. I wasn’t trying to be sexy and alluring, dateable, marriage material. I was just a woman with bangs; smart, witty, sarcastic, still sexy if you took a second look, but more invisible from the male gaze, which feels safe. Someone would have to get to know me to learn the ways in which I was attractive.

The male gaze encapsulates a love/hate relationship I’ve had with my own body for so long. The way I looked made me feel validated and accepted, but always slightly lacking. No one ever saw me and all the weird lovely ways that I was me and I didn’t allow those parts to shine. I felt more visible when I was just a pretty face, pretty hair, a sexy body, and the right combination of thick thighs and pretty eyes. Cutting my bangs has made me feel more invisible to the male gaze but allowed me to take my validation back, turn my gaze inward, and be able to self assess on whether I’m happy with who I am and how I’m showing up in the world. I’m no longer worried about getting numbers, fitting into a mold and getting picked. I’m more worried about connecting with friends, having memorable experiences, and growing as an individual. I’m focused on what makes me proud to be myself, knowing that I’m enough. My gaze is the only one I’m worried about now, and I feel pretty damn cute with bangs.