I have had long hair all my life. Usually it is shoulder-length, but has never been shorter than the chin, at least not until 2005. That is when I decided to shave my head. I did this for a lot of reasons. My Great Aunt was dying of cancer, and had lost all of her hair because of Chemotherapy. I’m not very good at socialization, but I wanted to connect with her in a way that let her know everything I was feeling and maybe let her know that even though I didn’t come around as much as everyone else, or sit by her bedside to hold her hand the last week before she died, that I loved her and she was a profound part of my life. It was also during a time when I wanted to question gender roles and female stereotypes. My husband and I challenge gender roles in nearly ever aspect of our relationship, and yet I find myself constantly questioning my femininity because I don’t cook or clean or do other “womanly work”, nor do I typically look like a woman “should”. I have never been a fan of make-up or nail polish, I don’t care about fashion or cute shoes or trendy purses; I couldn’t care less about starting a family or getting my hair done. I had felt like my second X chromosome was asleep. A hair cut, at first glance, doesn’t seem like much of a statement, but it was monumental. Not only I was challenging people’s interpretations of what a woman with a shaved head is (a butch lesbian? a transgender? a freak? a goth?), but also my own.
Hair has always been a major talking point through history. In the 18th century women either had long curly hair, where they wore a hat, or extreme wigs or hair which were piled high upon the head. In the 19th century, women who were out in society wore their long hair up as was proper, though country women (seen as less refined) wore it down, the length was still in question. In the 1960s, women had long, free flowing hair in rebellion of the culturally acceptable style. As far as I can tell, the only time women were ever encouraged to have short hair was during the 1920s – 1940s when flappers and Big Band Music was in style, although any shorter than chin/mid-cheek sparked questions and concerns. As a reality TV watcher, shows like American’s Next Top Model, and Paris Hilton’s BFF show girls breaking down into hysterics if anyone dares suggest they cut their hair short, dye it a new color, or do anything outside of the girl’s comfort zone. Many times I’ve heard the young women proclaim, “I don’t want it to change who I am!” What an absurd idea really.
As far as the feminist movement has come, there is so many little things which seem to be overlooked. Rosie the Riveter, an icon for the women during WWII who had to go to work, is shown with her beautiful clear skin and perfectly done up hair despite the hard days spent in the factories, and Wo! Magazine’s call to femininity with a thin, naked woman who has flowing hair and holding up the world. It seems the farther we fight society for our freedom, the more we lock ourselves into certain boxes.
Shaving my head provided the confidence for me to try several other variations including shaving my eyebrows and rocking a Mohawk. That’s not to say that this transition was easy and went along smoothly. My husband wasn’t 100% on board at the beginning, and we struggled and discussed and debated. While I was outwardly convincing him, I was internally trying to find my own strength and acceptance. I had to know that no matter how much I didn’t look like what society deemed a woman, that I still was. It seemed like as soon as I was comfortable with the idea, my husband followed suit (or perhaps he realized it was something I was going to do either way, so he better hop on board or risk the consequences). Now, my current hairstyle has settled somewhere in the middle and my days of asking “Is this womanly enough?” have dwindled.
