Off the Top of My Head

When the calendar turned to April I realized I hadn’t had a haircut since October.

This was the longest I’d gone without getting a trim of any kind and definitely the longest my hair had ever been. How long, you ask? This long:

But then I was faced with a decision: what do I do with it? I found myself in a kind of analysis paralysis where I found hairstyles I liked but didn’t want to commit to them because once it was cut, what if I didn’t like it?

I crowdsourced ideas for both cuts and stylists form friends, settled on a stylist based on lots of recommendations, and booked an appointment.

I was nervous. This would be my first haircut since coming out as nonbinary and after decades of men’s haircuts I wanted something a bit more androgynous. I was also nervous because I would be going to someone I hadn’t met before and allow them into my personal space to do their job.

The day came and I arrived for my appointment early.

I shouldn’t have worried. My stylist and I had some acquaintances in common and some similar life experiences and I was almost immediately at ease.

I showed them a picture Krystal had sent me that I thought fit me:

I loved watching them work in the mirror as I was transformed.

I have a difficult time conveying emotion at times, especially around folks I don’t know that well. I tried my best to let them know I really, really loved what they’d done, giving them a double fist bump as I left the salon.

And then I went home and made grilled cheese and cried at how happy I felt.

Monday Morning Grievance: Hair

It’s Monday and I haven’t had my coffee.

Monday Morning Grievances Logo 1

I do not like my hair. Let me explain.

The hair on my head is currently long – and I know, it’s entirely my own fault for not going to the barber and having it cut. I’ve gone to the same barber for almost seven years; for 5 years before that, I cut my own hair (Krystal put an end to that once we were married); and I went to the same barber in Pennsylvania for the 18-odd years before that. My long hair itches, it gets in my eyes, and it doesn’t actually look long as it does matted (think ungroomed English sheepdog). It’s worse now, for as much as I love Autumn I detest the seasonal scalp itch it brings with it. Each year I vow not to scratch my head bloody; so far I’ve lost that bet. Maybe this year will be different. Maybe.

Beard Measuring T-ShirtAnd then there’s my facial hair. I love my facial hair and despise shaving, so it all works out. If I could have my way, I’d grow my hair to “Professor” level as seen in the handy guide on the left. However, I do not have my way. Krystal despises beards and – like the hair on my head – my Van Dyke refuses to grow long; instead, it insists on growing like a thick tangle of brambles into a matted, knotted mess. As mush as I love my facial hair, I really dislike eating it. Trichophagia isn’t my cup of  tea coffee.

Did I mention I despise shaving? I hate the feel of razor on skin, I hate the slick feel of the shaving cream, I always leave stubble behind – and not good “dashing” stubble, but oddly placed and spaced “idiot” stubble. Shaving is one of my least favorite personal hygiene activities. Only cuticle trimming is worse – weird, I know, but it’s my dislike so I’m allowed to have it.


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