I’ve been growing out my bangs for the last few months, and if you’ve ever done this, you know there’s a special kind of hell reserved for weeks 4 through 8. They’re not bangs anymore, but they’re not NOT bangs either. They’re just… there. In your face. Demanding baseball caps and headbands and a level of styling creativity I haven’t needed since junior high.

Yesterday morning, I caught myself in the mirror doing that thing where you blow them to the side hoping they’ll magically integrate with the rest of your hair, and I laughed. Because this is exactly what this whole week is about. We’re all in that awkward phase where we can’t hide what we’re growing out anymore.

I’ve had bangs for 18 years. EIGHTEEN YEARS. Got them after finally telling my Vancouver hairdresser (after a decade of polite lying) that I actually hated my hair. Just stopped her mid-cut and said “I hate this. I want to be blonde. With bangs.” The bangs became part of my identity, my signature, definitely my way of being in the world.

Three years ago, I found my current hairdresser, and from day one she’s been gently suggesting – with increasing enthusiasm – that I’d look amazing without them. Every appointment: “Ready to grow them out?” Every time: “Not yet.” Until a few months ago when I finally said yes, and she literally jumped for joy. “I’ve been DYING to do this!” she squealed, like she’d been holding her breath for three years.

When you’re ready, you’re ready. And apparently, everyone else has been ready for you for a while.

THE WEEK’S ENERGY

This week carries that particular energy of exposure that comes when you can’t hide behind your usual tricks anymore. It’s like the universe grabbed our collective bobby pins and said “nope, you’re wearing your truth on your face now.”

There’s a full moon intensity building that feels like those overhead lights in the salon, the ones that show EVERYTHING. Every root that needs touching up, every awkward layer, and every place where you’ve been trying to make something work that stopped working months ago. Under this light, we can’t pretend anymore. The truth is just… there, and demanding to be dealt with.

The energy early in the week is investigative, like running your fingers through your hair and finally feeling where all the damage is. People want to get below the surface to understand what’s really going on under all that product and styling. Conversations go deeper. And we stop accepting the surface explanation for things.

Mid-week, there’s this building tension around relationships and worth. It’s like looking at old photos and realizing you kept the same hairstyle through three relationships, two job changes, and a whole pandemic because someone once said it looked good on you. We’re questioning whose opinion we’ve been living by and whether it’s time to stop.

By week’s end, something shifts into forward motion. After months of internal processing, deliberation, and “thinking about it,” we’re ready to actually DO something. Even if that something is just admitting we’re in transition. Even if it’s just saying out loud, “Yeah, I’m growing these out. It’s awkward. Deal with it.”

WHAT IT MIGHT FEEL LIKE

You might start the week with that exposed feeling, like when your hairdresser pulls your hair straight back with clips and you see your whole face for the first time in forever. There you are. No hiding. Just… you.

There could be moments of panic where you want to grab the scissors and just trim everything back to how it was. The familiar dysfunction suddenly seems so much easier than this awkward growth phase. At least you knew how to style dysfunction. This in-between thing? Who knows what to do with this?

You might have conversations that feel like finally telling your hairdresser the truth after years of “it’s perfect, thanks!” while dying inside. The relief of saying what you actually think might surprise you. The other person might literally jump for joy. They’ve been waiting for you to be honest.

You might find yourself getting irrationally angry at anyone who says “I liked it better before” or “why change now?” Because when you’re in the tender space of transformation, unsolicited opinions feel like someone tugging on your awkward growth, making it even more uncomfortable.

But by the end of the week, there’s this feeling of momentum, like when your stylist shows you how the awkward pieces are finally long enough to tuck behind your ear. You’re not there yet, but you can finally see where “there” might be.

SOUL PERSPECTIVE

From the soul’s point of view, this week’s discomfort is delicious. Yup, delicious. Every awkward phase is actually a victory lap that means you’ve stopped maintaining something that wasn’t true anymore. You’ve chosen growth over grooming the dysfunction.

The soul sees our attachments to identity markers, whether it’s bangs, relationships, jobs, or ways of being, and finds it tenderly amusing how we’ll maintain something for 18 years because we once made a decision in a moment of clarity and then forgot we’re allowed to make new decisions in new moments of clarity.

This week isn’t just about revealing what we’ve been hiding; it’s about revealing that we’ve BEEN hiding. There’s a difference. One is about the what. The other is about the why. And this week, we’re finally ready to talk about the why.

The soul also knows that everyone around us has been seeing our truth anyway. Like my hairdresser who waited three years to help me grow out my bangs, people who love us have been holding space for our transformation long before we were ready to admit we needed one. They’ve been seeing past our careful styling to who we’re becoming.

HOW TO BE WITH IT

So stop trying to make the awkward phase look less awkward. It’s supposed to be awkward. That’s how you know it’s working. Growth doesn’t look polished. If it does, you’re probably just rearranging, not transforming.

When you feel exposed, resist the urge to immediately cover up. Sit with the vulnerability of being seen in transition. There’s something powerful about admitting you’re between versions of yourself.

If someone offers you their opinion about your changes, remember, you didn’t ask. Thank them for their concern and keep growing. Your transformation is not a democracy.

Practice saying “I’m in transition” without following it with an apology or explanation. Just let it be what it is. You don’t owe anyone a timeline for your becoming.

Find your cheerleaders, the ones who, like my hairdresser, have been waiting to support your growth. They’re out there, probably barely containing their excitement that you’re finally ready.

YOUR WEEK IN ONE SENTENCE

“This week, I wear my awkward growth phase like a badge of honour.”

MINI PRACTICE FOR TRANSITION COURAGE

Each morning, look yourself in the mirror and say one true thing about where you are in your growth. Not where you’re going or where you’ve been, but where you are right now.

“My bangs are at that really weird length.” “I’m not sure if I love my job anymore.” “This relationship might be over.” “I think I’m ready for something different.”

Just state it. Don’t fix it. Don’t style it. And don’t apologize for it. Just let the truth sit there like… awkward bangs. Visible, undeniable, and slowly becoming something else.

The thing about growing out your bangs (or your life) is that everyone can see you doing it. There’s no hiding the transition. Every bobby pin, baseball cap, every creative styling attempt just announces, “I’m changing! It’s awkward! I’m doing it anyway!”

This week, we’re all walking around with our metaphorical grow-out on full display. And maybe that’s exactly as it should be. When you can’t hide behind your usual tricks, you discover what your face actually looks like.

And maybe more often than not, everyone else has been dying to see it too.

PS: You know that moment when your hairdresser has been hinting for THREE YEARS that you’d look amazing without bangs and you finally say yes and they literally jump up and down? That’s the energy of people waiting for you to step into your authentic self. “UNLIMITED” is where I do that jumping when you finally admit what you’ve been knowing but not saying. Sign up if you’re someone ready to stop styling around the truth.

PPS: Seriously though, is there a more vulnerable act than growing out your bangs? It’s like wearing a sign that says “I’M CHANGING AND IT’S WEIRD AND EVERYONE CAN SEE IT.” What’s your equivalent right now? What transition are you wearing…maybe even on your face? And please tell me I’m not the only one with baseball hats everywhere trying to manage this blessed mess.