Why and How I shaved my head

7 minute read

Laid out on a tabletop are three long brunette braids, cut off and tied with elastics at both ends. Photo credit: Mine

This is not a blog post I ever thought I would write!

Shaving my head feels like a personal, almost spiritual undertaking for me, but it can’t very well be private, as it’s something I absolutely cannot hide from anyone now that it’s done! So why not send folks to a blog post ahead of time and save this introvert some time having multiple conversations. However, rest assured dearest reader— I am in sound mental and physical health! This was definitely a premeditated decision.

(If you’d like to see a photo, you’ll have to read to the end…)

In December of 2019 I got a cute chin-length swing bob, one of those shorter-at-the-back numbers that so shocked people in the 1920s. The only haircut I’ve had since then was in September 2022, and I got only a few inches off. I’ve been growing it out and wearing it mostly braided since then.

My tricks for growing my hair past my waist:

I wore it braided almost all the time to keep it from tangling too much, didn’t wash it more than once a week, and when I did I used plenty of conditioner. I allowed it to air dry, detangled it carefully with my fingers (and only once dry), I brushed it through only after it was detangled. I trimmed split ends with scissors as needed, I smoothed Argan Oil into it occasionally… all of which a lot of annoying maintenance… but it was healthy root to tip.

By September of 2024 I’d somehow grown it longer than I’d ever managed as a teenager. My hair was fully down past my waist to the small of my back, when it was loose (which was almost never). Once my hair reaches about the middle of my back, it starts driving me absolutely bananas, and starts being more of a burden and a liability than an asset.

I was long tired of the handfuls that would fall out every time I detangled or washed it, I was tired of fishing it out of the drain, off the soap, pulling random tangles off corners of towels in the dryer and off the bottom of my wool socks, cutting it out of the roller on my vacuum cleaner… and pulling it out of both ends of my dog. Gross. It would get caught on jewelry, on buttons, in zippers, in velcro… and whenever I needed to untangle it (daily) it felt like a mild form of torture. Ouch! After washing it, it took hours to air dry. And yet, braiding and re-braiding nearly daily, I kept it long for many months, because all the hassle of keeping it up didn’t yet outweigh the executive function of making a decision on what else to do with it and where to go for that. Better the Devil ye know, or something.

I’ve been back and forth over the years between very long hair and very short hair; I’ve had pixie cuts in the past, so wasn’t worried about it being short. When talking to my mom about it the other day, I mentioned that I wanted to cut it and donate it again but didn’t want to buzz it because I have a little raised mole on my scalp (wordlessly implying that I was a bit insecure about that wee imperfection)…

The moment I said that, I knew that buzzing it is exactly what I had to do. Oof.

Sometimes you have to move towards what scares you—that is the direction you know you have to go.

So the other day I texted my partner and ask him if he would support me and help me buzz my hair off. Unsurprisingly, he quickly agreed, because he’s a good man and likes to support me in doing something brave. He plugged in his clippers to charge so they’d be ready by the time I arrived next day. BUT—once I started cutting off my braids the following morning I decided wanted to do it all by myself, but being there at his place with loving moral support was helpful…

And that’s when things started to go sideways!

My hair is really fine and there was a lot of it. With the clipper’s guard on, they weren’t quite powerful enough to get through all my hair evenly, and with my inexperience in such a matter, things were not going well. Even cleaning out the blades constantly between passes, the more I tried to persevere the choppier it all looked, and I was losing patience fast. I could feel some initial panic rising but before I could get overwhelmed and cry about it, I realized it was more funny than anything else!

Then I made a sound decision to turn off the clippers, wipe down the bathroom, wash what was left of my hair, and call though the bathroom door to my partner and ask if he could lend me a toque. It was time to let a professional tackle the remainder of this ridiculous situation.

So with my three long braids safely ensconced in a ziplock bag for donation, all the unattached bits of my hair stowed in the compost bucket, and what was actually still left on my head safely hidden under my borrowed toque, we set out towards downtown in search of a barbershop.

An hour later in the waiting area of the barbershop while texting my mom about it, she let me know that I have double whorls on the back of my head that go in opposite directions. She would know! No wonder I was having such a hard time!

Anyway, one of the nice boys at Victory sorted me out in less than 10 mins, and nobody laughed at me. He gave me a very short and tidy buzzcut, a little shorter at the sides and back so it has a little more shape while it grows out. Maybe because I was going to donate it and maybe because he felt a little bad for me, he kindly gave me a break on the fee, which I appreciated. Nonetheless, I left a good tip.

I have to say, I love my hair short, but it still feels pretty surreal.

I keep thinking it’s all a dream and one morning I’ll wake up and my long hair will be back. I keep catching my reflection in a window or my shadow on the wall and thinking “who the hell is that?”

I’m pretty sure my hair was actually longer than this when I was born!

In a way I guess it is a rebirth of sorts.

I’ve already found there have been a lot of positives from the experience:

• I’ve been enjoying the breeze and the rain and the sun on my head, and running my hands all over the fuzz. It feels so great!

• Shaving your head is one of those events where there is a distinct before and an after, and it’s SUCH a scary drastic change that you can feel safe to change other scary things alongside it and they won’t feel so daunting.

• It’s a fantastic analogy for letting go of what else is not serving you.

• Like a snake shedding skin or a crustacean shedding an exoskeleton, cutting off my hair and starting from scratch is a liberating feeling.

• It’s vulnerable to make a big voluntary change to your appearance and possibly receive unsolicited comments about how you looked better before. But they can stuff it. In reality, walking down the street I seem to get nothing but smiles.
  (Maybe because I’m smiling, myself!)

• This is letting go of and pushing back against society’s gendered beauty standards. It’s a kind of badass rebellion in that way, even though badass might be the last way I’d actually describe myself!

• I feel as though I am getting in touch with my basic un-gendered humanity here, getting to know myself better. I’m working on developing a more secure relationship with myself, and I see this as a shortcut (and if I’m honest, yes, it’s working).

• As per the two points directly above, it’s something of an expression of Queerness, although I don’t really think I have clear thoughts or language to either understand or articulate that further right now.

• It’s so interesting to see my scalp and the shape of my head and imagine my muscles and blood vessels beneath it, and below that, my skull, doing such a good job of protecting my brain. Fascinating!

• I can’t hide my face at all, so I’m making peace with my flaws: the raised mole on my scalp, my Melasma (Hey @Autocorrect, that’s Melasma, NOT melanoma, thank you), my few random grey hairs, my out-of-control eyebrows, and all those random stray hairs we ladies get in middle age…

• As an artist I’m truly looking forward to sketching my features and trying another self-portrait sometime soon.

• Also: I can’t hide my posture under my hair anymore, so I’m looking forward to going to some physiotherapy, learning and practicing some stretches and exercises to help me sit and stand up straighter!

• I’m looking forward to experimenting with hairstyles as it grows out. Maybe I’ll even experiment with some fun colour sometimes…

• I am looking forward to wearing a few pairs of favourite earrings I couldn’t wear with my longer hair let down because it would always get caught in them.

• I am gaining the confidence of loving all of myself, even more.

• Already, my space is so much tidier. I’ve put away my brush and comb and all the elastics and clips and barrettes etc etc. When I got home yesterday I gave my living space a good sweep and vacuum and wipe down. No more random hair fall! Although, I’m sure I’ll still be finding long hairs in random places for a while…

• Last and certainly not least… I’m donating my hair to A Child’s Voice Foundation, and that’s something I feel good about. I don’t want my hair to go to waste when it could help a young person in need. If you’re interested, linked above are the the specific requirements for hair donation and the address.

Writing this, I can already imagine someone reading this and saying “Ugh, she’s writing like she invented the concept, none of this is new” and fair enough. But it’s been fun to write about it, and interesting to independently experience firsthand what so many strong people have long known before me.

Shaving my head has been an overwhelmingly positive experience for me… but…

There’s only one real downside: It’s late September and my head is COLD!

I foresee lots of toques and scarves in my future until some of my insulation grows back…

• Have you ever buzzed your head?

• What was your experience?

• What did you love or hate about it?

• Do you have any questions for me?

Let me know in the comments below…