Almost two years ago, inspired by Robin Wright in House of Cards, I cut my hair.
It went from being past my shoulders, to above my ears.
I’ll be honest.
I was pretty scared to cut it short.
But once I did it, I loved it.
And over the course of the last two years, I’ve gone shorter and shorter.
I had an appointment to get my hair cut two days ago.
I was going back and forth between these three options.
I was really leaning the most toward A.
Because I’m kind of over dealing with my hair.
Now, I have debated whether or not to tell the rest of this story.
Because I’m not trying to bash anyone.
But I feel like it’s kind of important.
And it’s really been bothering me for a good 48 hours now.
I’m gonna tell it.
I walked into the salon on Tuesday and showed the hairdresser the above picture on my phone.
She took it, sat down, and exhaled. Heavily.
That was not a good sign.
And then she said,
“I hate pixie cuts.”
Here I was pretty psyched to get a cute, short(er) cut, and the hair stylist was telling me they were all awful.
I probably should have left right then.
If you are not into short hair on women, that’s cool. I get it. It’s not everyone’s style.
And if you are a hairdresser, you know what works and doesn’t work.
But to me, this wasn’t a case of her not liking these styles for me.
She just abhors them in general.
It was like an elementary school teacher being interviewed for a job and saying, Oh, just so you know, I fucking hate math. And I don’t really think anyone should learn how to do it.
So the wind was taken out of my sails. Because I really love a short hair cut on a woman. On a woman who has the right shape face and the right kind of hair for it.
I’d agree that it’s not the most flattering style for every female on the planet.
But I like it on me. Kind of a lot.
So I was like, “Really? I think those cuts are so cute! And I know I’m old enough to be Michelle Williams’s mom, but I think I can still pull that one off.”
And then she said,
“Ummm, here’s the thing. Women don’t look good because of pixie cuts. They look good in spite of them.”
WHOAH! Now hold on a second!
I just sat there like, “Did she really just say that?”
I was dumbfounded.
Because she wasn’t saying that it was not the right cut for my face or for my hair type. She was just saying they all suck.
(And I think my short makes me even cuter than I already am 😉 ).
My parade being fully rained on, I contemplated canceling my appointment.
But I needed a hair cut, goddammit, so I kept my pixie loving butt in that chair.
She washed my hair, and we went back to her station.
She started cutting the back, and explaining to me that if we cut it too short, especially in the front, I was going to look too masculine and like I took regular dips in the lady pond.
And don’t get me wrong. I love all my lesbian friends.
But I didn’t want a butchy cut. I wanted a nice, soft, feminine pixie cut.
Like option A.
So she kept cutting. And then she said, “We’ll leave it long in the front like picture C.”
I was cool with that. I could always cut that part off if I didn’t like it.
It was what she said next that really bothered me the most, and is still bothering me right now.
And she didn’t say it to be mean. And she wasn’t even directing it at me, specifically.
It was more of a generalization.
She said, “We need to leave some bangs in the front. Because if we don’t, then you are just out there. In everyone’s face. And you’ve got nothing left to hide behind.”
Whoah. Whoah. Whoooooooooah.
You know what?
That. Is bullshit.
Because if a man went into a barber shop or a salon, and his hair was thinning and his hairline was receding, and he finally decided, You know what? It’s time to shave this shit off and stop trying to pretend this isn’t happening, that I’m not aging, nobody would look at him and say,
“You can’t shave your head!!! If you do then you will have nothing to hide behind.”
So Fuck. That.
I’m done being insecure. I’ve been done with that for a while now. I’m done giving a flying fuck what other people think. I’m done worrying about getting older. I’m done trying to cling onto my youth.
I am 47 years old.
I’ve got wrinkles. My eyebrows are basically non-existent at this point.
I’ve got a couple age spots brewing — on my face — my cheeks are starting to sag, and I’m developing a waddle that would send Richard Fish into a frenzy.
But you know what?
There’s nothing I can do about that.
I’m getting older.
I can try to pretend it’s not happening.
Or I can embrace it.
I’ll be damned if I’m gonna hide behind anything.
Not behind my hair. Not behind pounds of make up. And not behind big baggy clothes or a cover up at the beach because my body isn’t less than 20% body fat.
There is no reason for me to hide behind anything.
I’m fucking awesome.
And to be honest, I know I’m no Angelina Jolie, but I still feel pretty darn attractive. Even with my wrinkles and my waddle.
Yeah. It’s true.
I’m getting older.
And I don’t feel hideous.
In the end, I didn’t end up with picture C. I ended up with sort of A.
After all that talk of me needing to keep something on my face to hide behind, she cut it even shorter than the picture.
But it’s okay.
Because I actually really like it.
And so do other people.
I went to see my new therapist today. It was only my second appointment with her, so she’s only seen me once before today.
When I walked into the office, she said to me, “Is your hair different?”
I told her I had gotten it cut.
She said, ” Oh My GOD! It looks fantastic!”
Yesterday I was at the gym walking down the hallway, and a woman who works there looked at me and said, “Your hair looks GREAT! I wish I could pull that hair cut off!”
I didn’t need the reassurance.
But it sure was nice. Especially unsolicited.
So for all you ladies out there. Whether you are 20 or 30 or 40 or 80, remember this.
There is no need for you to EVER hide behind anything.
Not behind hair. Not behind make up. Not behind clothing.
Because you are fucking awesome, too.
You do what makes you feel good.
We all have different styles and tastes.
There are people who don’t love short hair on women.
And then there are people who do.
In the end, though, there’s only one person who needs to love it.
Okay. Actually, two people.
I do, and so does the person I’m going to go to the next time I get my hair cut.
And if you know of someone who specializes in super cute short cuts for women, let me know.
Cause I’m on the market for a new one.