Ever since I was young, I was adventurous. Now all my hair is gone.
I have a problem.
That problem is that I have a million ideas, but no specific focus or outlet for making them become reality.
Sometimes this leads to me making rash decisions.
This means that I plant a ton of seeds, and wait to see which ones take root.
Sure, occasionally I accidentally stomp on some while I’m watering others — but the point is, after a while the best of ideas somehow push through the soil into the sunlight.
Most recently? I shaved my head.
Question of the day: Why did you shave your head?
I’ve had a lot of people ask me, eyebrows raised, why on earth did I shave my head?
Am I planning on keeping it this way?
Do I like it?
Do I know I look like a boy?
Shaving my head was a decision I made, like most of them, without really understanding why I was making that decision.
There’s plenty of pros to having a shaved head — easy maintenance, cheaper hair cuts, +10 resistance to heat, and not having that claustrophobic feeling that you get from your hair on the bad days.
There’s also plenty of cons to having a shaved head (as a woman). I look like a cancer patient to some people. I get mistaken as a guy when people fail to realize that my boob-to-body ratio doesn’t make sense for a booby fat guy. People can also be pretty blunt about telling you they don’t like it when a woman shaves her head.
So… why did I actually go through with it?
Shaving your head isn’t just a physical action.
It’s not just a physical thing when a woman shaves her head.
There’s a lot of social and environmental aspects that are going to play a role, no matter how removed you think you are from those sorts of things.
As I’ve considered shaving my head in post-action, I’ve decided that it was kind of a game.
“What if I shaved my head? How would people would react?”
It also feels pretty hardcore to me, and I like the idea of being hardcore.
It was a way to prove to myself that I can do anything. If I have the guts to shave my head in the face of all the perceived tribulations… if I can take the zing out of something that many people view as a sign of social craziness… then what can’t I do at that point?
As someone with visions of contributing to humanity on a global level, that’s an empowering feeling.
That, plus a pleasant shock factor, all contributed to my ultimate decision of shaving my head.
Do I regret it? Am I going to keep it this way?
I haven’t regretted the decision for a moment.
Sure, a few elderly folks have had full conversations with me without realizing I was a girl (my tomboy wardrobe sure doesn’t help) and I’ve confused many a small child while walking into the women’s restroom, but all said and done I have really enjoyed having no hair.
Initially, I was planning on growing it back out from that first shave… but I’ve since bought a Wahl razor and kept it buzzed down to about 1/4” most of the time.
I don’t have a plan for it, but right now it’s looking like short hair is here to stay.
The freedom of nothing.
Shaving what was left of my hair seems to have been an act of rebellion, the resolution of an epiphany in which I realized I’m sick of dealing with stuff — my hair included.
(My physical items have been proving harder to get rid of, but I’m working on it.)
To be honest, my daily life doesn’t really seem to be impacted other than having to spend zero time on my hair in the morning.
But often enough, I think to myself: You can do anything you want.
And that’s enough.
UPDATE: 2 years later.