I buzzed my head.
Good question. The more I look at myself in the mirror, the more perplexed I am about it myself. But, then, I vigorously rub my head with both hands & realize how worth it it was all over again. I go on a bike ride & feel the tiny tufts fluttering in the wind & again, it’s worth it. I shampoo it (yes, I still shampoo it) & feel those tiny, insignificant tufts morphing together into majestic formidable forces of their own. Like mountain peaks perched on my scalp. And then I rinse it & it’s all back to normal.
Okay, but there’s something else.
Take a step back. Do you know yourself? I mean, like really, really know yourself? Sure, about 50 times more than anyone else, right? But do you know the shape of your own head? Have you ever actually looked at it? Felt it undisturbed by those spagetti noodles that coat your scalp called hair? Probably not. I guess one reason I did it was because I was curious about myself. I wanted to know something new. I wanted to be surprised. I didn’t care if I would end up looking ugly, in fact, I kind of craved it in a weird, inexplicable way.
I had wondered about it for years. Was it liberating? I wanted to know.
It wasn’t. That’s the most honest answer I could give you. I was terrified. So terrified that when I went across the street from the barber shop to a liquor store to get cash back, I completely forgot my pin number. The same pin number I had had for years and had recently used to make another purchase maybe half an hour prior. I stood there stupidly, over and over again laughing and asking to type in my pin again, much to the frustration of the cashier who laughed along awkwardly at my expense. I finally remembered it just when I was beginning to think this situation had to be some sort of sign. Then, back at the barber shop, I was shaking in my seat, waiting.
But, alas, it happened and I totally cracked up. I was laughing and I’m pretty sure the barber was waiting for the laughs to turn into uncontrollable sobbing (she didn’t want to buzz it at all and took much convincing). But, I walked out, snapped a photo and drove off, windows down.
That was four days ago.
Guys: surprisingly positive and intrigued.
Girls: eyes averted and seemingly fake or forced compliments when introduced.
My own reactions?
It is difficult picking what to wear. I try to wear girlier things and find that some collared shirts and dresses don’t really do it for me anymore. Makeup also is a necessity and earrings are a no. Or at least a lot of earrings. I look like a baby with its ears pierced most of the time. No thanks.
I bounce between, ehh I wish I had SOME hair and I’m really glad I did this. My mother has given me grief, so has my step father and neither of them have even seen it. It’s been okay besides that. It’s honestly been pretty fun looking so different and if you’re a runner, I definitely recommend it.