I realized that after my rather whiny post about cutting off all my hair last month, I never followed up. With more than a month to adjust, here’s how I feel:
I like it! I love it! I’m glad I did it!
Since that post I’ve had it cut twice more (maintenance). I go to the barber shop; it’s easier and cheaper. Currently I’m training my now-regular barber to cut my hair without fear of taking away my girl-ness. Speaking of which, I thought it was adorable when my daughters, then and now respectively, believed I’d turned into a boy when I cut my hair! (Charis, now 16, was 3 when I first cut off all my hair and subsequently allowed it to grow back; Autumn is 6 and never knew me with short hair. Apparently to young girls, endowment with the appropriate number of “x” chromosomes is directly proportionate to the length of one’s hair.) However, I didn’t realize grown men, who cut hair for a living, can also be troubled with this same child-like belief.
Nonetheless, the careful training of my recently-adopted barber began with my first visit. I asked for a trim; he cut approximately .001 millimeters of hair. Despite his obvious trepidation, he did line me up very well. A fine start, all told.
At the second visit I said, gently but firmly, “I want you to cut my hair. Now, when I say cut,” I explained, “I mean like that gentleman there.” I gestured across the aisle at a man whose hair was long enough to brush, but short enough to withstand a strong gust of wind.
“Who, him?!” he asked incredulously.
“Yes, him,” I agreed.
Still shocked, he extended his arm and blatantly pointed. “Him?! Right there?!”
I too, pointed (more tactfully) to the hapless man, who was now the center of attention to the entire shop. “Yes. Him. Right there in front of me.”
After a tense, lengthy pause, he declared his resignation with a deep-chested release of breath. “Okay,” he sighed, in that tone that conveys the warning, “You asked for it!”
But he did a phenomenal job, and I can boast (though my own opinion is probably biased) that despite losing one of the (apparently) more important proofs, I still retained most of my girl credentials when I left his chair. I shall return this weekend to commence his training!
In the meantime, I’ve apparently inspired at least two of my friends to take the same route! Thankfully they’re both single, so I cannot be accosted by angry boyfriends or husbands who might fear mistaking their women for boys if they look too quickly.