There’s something oddly thrilling about the moment someone decides, “You know what my relationship needs? Bangs.” Or a bleach-blonde buzzcut. Or a surprise mullet. Yes, nothing says “emotional reset” like walking into the bathroom looking like one person and walking out looking like someone who might sell crystals at a Renaissance fair.
But here’s the thing they don’t tell you at the salon: drastic hair changes don’t just affect your scalp. They affect your relationship. Dramatically. Like, "we need to have a talk" dramatically.
Let’s say you’ve been rocking the same lovely locks for the better part of your courtship. Your partner knows your hair like they know your coffee order. It's part of your visual identity—your “relationship brand.” Then one day, they come home and find you with purple hair and a side shave. Suddenly, they’re not sure whether to kiss you or ask for your autograph because you now resemble their favorite obscure alt-pop singer from 2009.
The initial reaction is always the most telling. There’s that half-second of stunned silence, followed by a weird smile and some version of, “Oh... wow.” The tone tells you everything. If it goes up at the end like a question, brace yourself. That’s not excitement. That’s confusion wrapped in fear and topped with forced enthusiasm.
And the most dangerous phrase you can hear? “I just need to get used to it.” This is emotional code for: “I’m trying not to say something that’ll get me banished to the couch with the dog.”
It works both ways, too. Maybe they come home with something dramatic—like a mustache that says “1974 villain,” or a buzz cut that makes them look like they joined a fight club. Your brain short-circuits. Do you compliment it? Pretend not to notice? Gently ask if this is for a role in a community theater production?
The truth is, hair is weirdly emotional. We attach so much identity to it that when one person in a relationship changes theirs dramatically, it can feel like dating someone new. But not in the sexy, spontaneous “we’re in Paris and you just spoke fluent French” way. More like, “I just woke up next to a stranger with frosted tips” kind of way.
What follows is a period of silent mourning—for the old hair. You’ll catch yourself scrolling through old photos like it was an ex. “Remember this? This was a good hair day. We were so happy back then.”
But then, as with most things, adaptation kicks in. Slowly, you stop blinking twice every time they enter a room. You begin to recognize the familiar expressions underneath the shaggy bangs or the bold new color. And just when you finally settle into the new look… guess what? They change it again. This time, bangs and a bob.
Relationships require flexibility, trust, and the occasional poker face. Drastic hair changes are like little tests: can you roll with the punches? Can you be supportive even when their hair now crunches audibly due to bleach damage? Can you lie convincingly when they ask, “Be honest, do I look like a pineapple?”
The answer, always, is no. You look like a glamorous pineapple. And I love you.
Because underneath the mohawk or the accidental bowl cut, it’s still them. And in a weird way, being able to laugh through the follicular chaos might just make your relationship even stronger.
Just... maybe save the mullet for your next relationship milestone. Like your five-year “we survived three hair cycles and still love each other” anniversary.
