chestnutblonde
Well-Known Member
Content from Apricot Tea's blog
That is me in my most natural state. My natural hair texture (tight curls) & my natural hair color (a light brown). It is a strange sight to see.
Shaving my head has been such an emotional event for me. I mean, how could it not be? Cutting off one’s hair is an outward expression of rebellion, freedom, & a little bit of craziness. There are so many layers to this process, & I’m still trying to wrap my head around the endless cycle of emotions I’m experiencing. So please forgive me if this post is at all inarticulate or overly-sentimental.
There were many reasons I shaved my head, but it was truly a matter of common sense. When I really sat down & thought about this — or should I say, “when I laid in bed tossing & turning at two o’clock in the morning, terrifying myself at the prospect of making this decision…” — I realized that my hair had been a heavy burden. It held me back from freely enjoying the simple pleasures in life (swimming, dancing in the rain, shower sex, etc.). It kept me always slightly insecure & self-conscious. &, if I was being honest, my chemically processed hair kept me feeling inadequate & slightly miserable throughout most of my life.
My hair also demanded a lot of tedious & specific upkeep, daily, weekly, monthly, even with a short cut. My usual monthly routine went something like this:
relax hair: 20 - 30 min.
rinse, wash, repeat twice & rinse again: 30 min.
deep condition, repeat, rinse: 10 min.
blow-dry hair: 20 min.
flat iron hair: 30 min.
style hair: 30 min.
This doesn’t include cutting or coloring my hair, which would add approximately two more hours to the ridiculous time consuming routine of relaxing, washing, drying, & styling my hair.
I’ve done this every month for the last decade, & while doing so, I’ve kept up the appearance that my hair didn’t rule my life… when, really, it did.
The amount of time (& money) I’ve spent to get my hair as straight as possible, all for the sake of having “more manageable hair”, disgusted me. & then I thought about relaxing & how, with the main ingredient being sodium hydroxide, I am likely damaging my own health by putting such a caustic chemical on top of my scalp & so close to my brain. I was reminded of all the times I had chemical burns so bad that the scabs would ooze & I couldn’t comb my own hair for 2 weeks. (Stupidly, I justified this by making “beauty is pain” my main mantra.)
When I really pondered about all that I’ve had to endure to defy my hair’s natural follicle, it disturbed me.
But the thing that completely moved me to nearly jumping out of bed at that moment & chopping my hair off in the middle of the night was the thought that I have never seen my hair in its natural state. Ever. I don’t know what it’s like to run my fingers through my hair’s natural texture. I don’t know what it’s like to wash or style it. I don’t even know what my natural hair looks like.
That saddened me.
From there, I could only ask myself “Why.” Why do I straighten my hair? Why haven’t I ever seen my natural texture, & why have I been taught to abhor it, to cover it, to fear it, to straighten it the moment it grows from my scalp? Why have I willingly continued to put poison directly on my scalp for the last twenty years, & why is that okay?
I was surprised when I couldn’t come up with one rational answer for any of those questions. Not a single answer.
I then started to daydream about what my real hair looks like underneath the chemicals. I imagined a more organic Ev`Yan; one that embraced the beauty of her body’s natural rhythms, her hair included. I remembered how much I’ve ached to shave my head, but kept waiting for the right moment. & then I was reminded of all the gorgeous pictures I had seen of buzz-headed women of all nationalities, & how I envied their boldness & liberation.
& just like that, it was settled. As Jonathan peacefully snored beside me in bed, I was practically shaking with excitement as I whispered to myself, “I’m going to do it.”
The next morning – or, should I say, “a few hours later…” because I was literally up all night with this — I told Jonathan briefly everything I had thought about the previous night; how I was kept awake with epiphanies & questions & vibrant visions of my natural-headed self. He smiled big & asked me if I was going to do it, & I told him honestly that I was 60% on board; the only thing holding me back was him. I needed to know that he was completely alright with having a semi-bald wife; one with kinky hair, at that. I needed to know that he would still find me attractive with a shaved head & that he wouldn’t resent me for being so different. He looked at me & told me gently, “The reason I fell in love with you had nothing to do with your hair. I fell in love with you because you have a gorgeous spirit. There is nothing you could ever do to yourself externally that would keep me from loving you.”
Hearing that from Jonathan, receiving incessant “Do it, DO IT!!!” texts from my sister, & then re-reading the comments on this post prompted me to just ****ing do it.
So I did.
It took about 10 minutes to shave all my hair off. It could have taken a lot less time, if it weren’t for my stalling & pathetic whimpering. But once I started, I didn’t stop. With each push of the clippers, my body felt lighter, as though a huge weight were being promptly lifted from my shoulders. Every time I glanced down on the bathroom floor & saw the clumps of black, chemically processed hair, I was overcome & overwhelmed that I was actually doing it. It was extremely emotional, & I’m quite surprised I didn’t cry. Instead, I was smiling so hard that my cheeks hurt.
Jonathan’s reaction has made this entire process a living dream. While I have tremendous faith in Jonathan & our love, a huge part of me expected him to be reluctant & repulsed by my shaved head. But he is floored. Matter of fact, I think he’s more attracted to me now than he ever has been before. He is constantly checking me out, constantly rubbing my head, constantly telling me how beautiful I am. His support with something as drastic as this speaks volumes, both for me & for anyone else listening. I honestly don’t know what I would do without him. At the moment, I am completely admiring his patience, as I ask him 20+ times a day, “Are you SURE you like my hair? Are you sure you find me beautiful?” & each time, he responds with a resounding Yes that is drenched with love & attraction for me that I feel silly that I asked him again… because I already know the answer.
Naturally, this is a huge change for me, & I’m not going to pretend that it’s been simple adjusting to it. I wrestle daily with the sad misconception that if you take away a woman’s hair, you take away her beauty & femininity. There are times when I look in the mirror & I am hesitant to accept my own reflection. Sometimes I feel awkwardly boyish; other times I feel more feminine than I ever have before. I don’t dislike my shaved head… I’m just not used to it, & my feelings about it waver pretty consistently. Having to cancel out every belief I’ve mistakenly had about hair & beauty has been grueling. Thankfully, having my head shaved leaves me with no other choice but to destroy those lies & delusions, & move in the direction of a more purer truth.
& not once have I felt a tinge of regret. Of course I’ve briefly mourned the loss of my chemically processed hair — & will no doubt continue to during this adaptation process — but I can’t help but smile at my closely shaved, curly head. I feel so free, so empowered, so liberated. Those powerful feelings continue to outweigh any resistance I might have with my decision.
I know there will be more posts like these to come, where I am happily celebrating my new look, or seemingly talking to myself & using reverse psychology to embrace the unknown adventure that is Going Natural. But I think that’s part of the process.
At this moment, I wish that I could say with 100% certainty that I will be natural from here on out, but I can’t. Really, only time will tell.
Currently, though? I’m adoring it.
