Chop It All Off


Beautiful baby ‘do.

I have this ongoing fantasy about chopping off all my hair and it actually looking good.

In my daydreams, my hair lies flat and is miraculously straight. The weird permanent part in the back of my hair is gone, and the little hairs above the nape of my neck hang straight down instead of veering always right. It is a closely cropped pixie which is nevertheless feminine and also sassy.

I have never tried cutting it as short as my fantasy requires, but at this point in my motherhood journey I’m about as close to living out the fantasy as I have ever been. Cara makes me unsatisfied with my raggedy locks. Not only does she pull it mercilessly, she models the most perfect hairdo effortlessly. My hair has perhaps only been pardoned due to my inability to make an appointment at a salon. For the past three years every haircut has consisted of me standing in my bathroom sawing off the end of a ponytail with sewing scissors and occasional glimpses behind me into the mirror. It never comes out completely straight, but I let the curls and waves mask the unevenness.

I hesitate to cut because in 4th grade someone told me that I would make a cute boy, and I guess I’ve always subconsciously presumed that losing my hair would take me in undesirable directions. That I am lacking in beauty and femininity enough to wear a pixie.

This year I have been working on not letting fear or anxiety fuel my decisions. I cannot guarantee that I will actually cut it all off, but I am at least ready for a bob revival. The best way to go shorter is incrementally. Dip the proverbial toe into the water, and all.

On top of all this, I know I don’t want to venture into the arena of “mom hair”. What exactly this entails, unfortunately, lacks a solid definition and boundary lines. I asked Oliver if he would like me to get a “mom” haircut. His look of revilement was answer enough. When I asked him, “what’s a mom haircut?” The closest definition he could provide was an outdated style of one’s youth, or scraggly unstyled hair. Going by this latter definition I already sport “mom hair”.

So the only direction I can go is up. And that gives me peace.


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