So. Shaved my head. It’s been a long time coming. I’ve been threatening to do it every time I’m due for a haircut. I just hate hair. Oh, not hair itself, just dealing with it. I despise wasting any amount of my time on dealing with that stuff on my head. If I’m not good enough without it, well, then I wasn’t good enough to begin with.
Now that I’ve taken the leap, I’ve been pondering lots of different things. (Less weight on my head=more brainpower? Hmmmm…)
WHY it’s such a “brave” thing to do for a woman to shave her head. Oh, I know the historical context, the verse in the Bible, way it was used to shame women in past centuries. The fact that it’s an obvious sign of enduring treatments for a horrible disease. (Also knowing that there’s always going to be someone who wonders if you’ve done it because you had head lice.)
It still bothers me, this notion that a woman isn’t fundamentally beautiful just because she exists. That this is something we can gain or lose by conforming to changing and sometimes arbitrary standards of grooming.
Anyway, I’ve been asked a lot in the almost-week since I’ve shaved my head why I did it. The answer: Because why not?*
OK, fine. #LeahStepsOffSoapbox
*I won’t claim that the fact that my eleven year old son was mortified when he saw me wasn’t a bonus. After all, he’s eleven and I’m his mother. By definition, everything I do is mortally embarrassing. Therefore, I take this as confirmation that I’m doing my job well.