Just a few thoughts from getting my head shaved.
So if you don’t know, I’ve shaved my head. Clean. Shout out to Nasri Nassar @bkzpali94.barber for taking the razor to my head and getting clean cuts on the braids.
Shout out Donna for braiding it, she was a real professional, and a wonderful mother to her two sons.
It’s been two weeks and it’s growing back rapidly but it’s still pretty surreal. I wanna just walk through some of my thoughts and reasons for doing this, and what I learned from the whole experience.
One, I wanted to stop showering so long. It was just a hassle to plan the showers around workouts. It was a pain to comb, shampoo, conditioner twice, and lotion. I would find dozens of hairs all over the apartment, everywhere. Couldn’t get away from it.
All the boys and girls with flow know, long hair is a culture. It was eye opening and fun to learn and relate to people that way. I’ll always keep an eye out for Becky with the good hair. And my detangling brush is cleaned out, waiting for me.
Second, I wanted to practice nonattachment. I’m a narcissist. I had grown to love my hair, the top knot look, the hair down, the braids. There was a part of me that reveled in the praise and admiration. I have nice hair, thick and shiny and just a gentle curve when it got real long. It was a great add into my style, and for all the work, I seriously liked it. I looked like a ninja, samurai, lion. I never did get around to that Sokka cosplay. [water tribe.gif]
But if I can wax poetic [oh and you know I am] we are not on this earth permanently. There’s nothing to be so held down by your appearance in the mirror, that can’t be taken out with a hatchet. Or shears. I’m in for new experiences, extreme actions, and anything done with intention and a great attitude. So I’m in to try new styles, move fast and break things, all in the name of accepting change.
Third and this one’s kind of silly, but I’ve never seen my scalp before. And I figure, might as well try it?
So I’m sitting in the barber shop. The buzzer is whirling, my pulse quickening as it approaches, then gently rests on my head, the vibrations shimmering down my skull. Two smooth swipes and pale skin shines against the sea of black. 5 minutes undoes 3 years of work. My scalp gets cleaned and tidied, the razor glides against skin and a short hair buzzer makes dust of what remains.
Good news! My head is a pleasant shape. Symmetric. Not exactly uniform but not overly shapely.
Grounding reality. If I were to lose my hair against my will, it shake me to my core. I already felt the changes from the cut, and I asked for this. If I could do nothing but watch as my hair fell out, disease or treatment, I would be truly distraught.
It’s such a small thing. My hair is nothing but an aesthetic, something I should ascribe little or no value. Yet it was such a startling change that for days after I would double take at my appearance in the mirror.
No doubt I still loved having the compliments and discussions over the act. Hands running across my skin feel nice. I appreciate the praise at donating. I could discuss the issues of Locks of Love, Wigs for Kids, Pantene. [Go Wigs for Kids. Locks will sell hair and does not give the wigs away for free, Pantene has since ended their charity] I remember distinctly looking at the glob of shampoo in my hand on that first shower, thinking, this is completely unnecessary.
In the end, I’m really happy I did this. Too much stagnation in my life. I’m here to go everywhere, do everything, fill my eyes with wonder and my heart with love. Not to be held down by earthly pleasures but eternally awed by this weird thing we call life.