Breakups and haircuts go hand in hand, but why? We explore the urge to reinvent ourselves post-split

It’s been 72 hours since you were dumped and 71 since an emergency hair appointment was booked. “How can I help you?” the stylist asks. You think of your ex: they hated short hair and loved “old money” tones. 

“Chop 5 inches and make it peroxide blonde.”

It’s a universal truth, your self-esteem is never lower than when you’re freshly heartbroken. Cloaked and confronted by your own stark image in the salon mirror, it’s natural to seek recovery from your split by ridding yourself of split ends. But the leather chair doesn’t just offer a physical transformation; for many, it’s therapy.

It’s natural to seek recovery from your split by ridding yourself of split ends.

According to TikTok, drastic changes in one’s physical appearance are assumed to be caused by a relationship breakdown. One video of a girl who goes from 22 inches to a cute pixie bob is captioned, “You know someone is going through a breakup when…” With over 180K likes, the video’s comments are flooded with hundreds of similar experiences. 

Social media’s commentary echoes the findings of a 2021 study by All Things Hair. They said that 70 per cent of UK women change their locks post-break-up. Some 66 per cent opt to dye or bleach, 60 per cent choose to chop, and 22 per cent add a fringe. Which leads us to ask, why? 

Is the need for an immediate visual change an act of rebellion against your ex? Are we in denial, hoping a new look will win them back? Or is it less about them and more about us? Is it an attempt at internal healing? Another TikTok parroted an old wives tale that hair holds memories, so is a Tangled inspired trim the chance to hack off trauma and start afresh? 

For Apple Shershi, a student and content creator, it was a new fringe that defined the end of her relationship. She had been with her boyfriend from the age of 19 to 24, living together in a London one-bed before she relocated to Cambridge for university. Reflecting on that time, she muses that she was in a transitional moment where staying with her partner “felt like being pulled back home”. She describes the relationship as “not toxic” but not “healthy” either. 

Then, a month after the move, he dumped her. That same night, she called her long-term hairdresser and begged for an appointment. “I wanted to look in the mirror and feel like a new person,” she said. Having spent months toying with side-bangs, Shershi had been “scared to commit” to the shaggy fringe of her dreams until the split. It was in Salt, a Hackney-based salon known for perfecting the lived-in cut, that the content creator was finally transformed by the perfect break-up bangs. She, of course, documented the experience for her following. 

Now 26, she believes cutting the fringe was the best thing she ever did. Not only did it feel like “shedding a layer”, but it was also symbolic to do something she previously didn’t have the courage to do. Having maintained the edgier look beyond the breakup, she muses that post-cut was the first time she felt truly like herself: “Confident and happy”. Continuing to stay “on and off” for a year post-split, “feeling like a new person kept [her] sane”.

Cutting the fringe was the best thing she ever did. Not only did it feel like “shedding a layer”, but it was also symbolic to do something she previously didn’t have the courage to do.

Fittingly, Shershi’s beloved Salt Salon was born out of a breakup, too. Iona Mathieson, the director, was experiencing a “horrible, awful” heartbreak and “craving a change” when she went to her usual salon. Her regular hairdresser was busy, so Mathiseon was paired with John Paul Scott, an experienced editorial stylist. Despite doubting his ability to tackle her black hair, she was desperate to be styled, so she “took a chance”.

Thinking he was cute (check), approving of his haircut skills (check), and enjoying his humour (check), the fellow stylist discovered Scott was living with his mum – a sure giveaway of a recent break-up (double check). The pair bonded over their similar situations, and the styling session felt closer to a first date. She left her phone number, and Scott called. Seven months later, the couple weren’t just co-founders of one of London’s coolest salons but also soon-to-be parents. 

It’s not just women who find themselves desperate for a hair change following a breakup; men are also victims of the trope. The end of James Waller’s first serious situationship didn’t immediately push him to the barbers, but while sitting in the chair weeks later, his ex did cross his mind. “I didn’t consciously [get a cut], but subliminally, I wanted to show him what he was missing.”

It’s that safety you have as someone washes your scalp or combs through your mane that allows the turmoil to tumble out our mouths. 

The 24-year-old had been thinking about ending the situation after three months of exclusively dating. His not-quite-boyfriend was closeted and failed to match Waller’s level of emotional investment. Annoyingly, his ex beat him to the punch. “He broke up with me over text. I was so annoyed. It was the frustration at what could have been.”

After the relationship ended on bad terms and a friend described him as “slovenly”, he decided it was time to change the haircut he’d been committed to for the majority of his adult existence. “I’d felt a rupture in my life. I needed a change.”

Growing out a moustache and cutting in a mullet, it wasn’t until Waller was sitting in the barber’s mirror that he realised he was replicating his ex’s look. “I don’t know what that says about me,” he laughs. “I’m obviously attracted to men who have a mullet and moustache; I needed one myself.”

It’s not just the fresh blonde dye seeping into our scalps that helps heal heartbreak. The process of updating your hairdresser (a paradoxically close stranger) on your inner-most turmoil is also cathartic. For Shershi, spilling her guts to her stylist made her feel cared for. “It’s rare to be sat with someone for a prolonged amount of time and have them touch you; it’s an intimate process.” 

For women specifically, “salons replicate an experience many people have of their mums doing their hair”. It’s that safety you have as someone washes your scalp or combs through your mane that allows the turmoil to tumble out our mouths. 

And with the cut of our split ends, the split often makes just a little more sense.