I turned 30 a few days ago, as Jessica sweetly noted. Suffice it to say that the dawn of my third decade corresponded with a whole shitload of personal upheaval–as Miriam and Samhita reminded me, my Saturn Returns. I don’t go in for new agey stuff all that much (a product of daughter rebellion, mostly), but I swear it has felt like all of that astrological stuff is more than just hooey as of late.
But I digress, I wanted to write about hair. I did that thing that so many people do when their lives change–I tried to externalize it in some symbolic way. This is not my tendency. When I studied abroad in South Africa and almost everyone of my friend got a tattoo, I resisted. I pierced my nose and kept the little stud in for about half a minute in college. But mostly, I look the same as I did when I was about four–long, curly, frizzy hair, not much makeup, a sense of style best described as simple and sometimes playful, but without too much thought.
But this year, I cut off about 10 inches of hair (admittedly, my hair is still not that short). Normally, this would really freak me out. I find women with short hair super attractive, so it’s not that. I think I just carried my hair around with me kind of like a security blanket. It’s what I’ve always known. It makes me feel like me. So cutting it off was sort of an acknowledgment that I’m not totally sure who I am these days (in a good way), and there is no real safety (again, don’t start worrying…this has also been an empowering realization), and so I might as well go through life a little lighter (both literally and metaphorically).
I would be remiss if I didn’t do a bit of gender analysis here, of course. I also think that having long hair, as a cis gendered, fairly straight woman, feels safe in a certain kind of way. There are men who really like short hair, but in my experience the majority of men like long hair. And in the larger culture, of course, long hair denotes femininity and youth and other things glamorized and glorified in our gender binary culture. Cutting off my hair also felt like a bit of a fuck you to that system (I’m not claiming I should get any big radical credit here…I know it’s minuscule in comparison to other radical acts.) I want to be with people who can find non-traditional femininity, or masculine femininity, or whatever the hell you want to call it, sexy too.
When I realized I could donate my hair, it was an awesome added bonus. I didn’t grow it out intending to give it away, but when I realized that my new lease could provide one for someone else, that felt even better.
So far I don’t miss it. In fact, I feel sexy. I feel quick. I can get out of the shower and be ready in about five minutes (the only thing holding me back from this speed had always been untangling my notoriously tangly hair). I feel new.
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29 Comments
Interesting. It underscores the notion that you don’t necessarily have to make a huge statement to get your point across.
And as for me, well, I think I’m mostly indifferent to hair length. Attraction to me regarding hair stems from how drawn I am to that person, and if he/she has short hair or long hair, then I appreciate them all the more for how it accentuates their looks.
My mother always talks about how no woman over the age of 45 has any business having long hair, which always sort of rubbed me the wrong way. One wonders if cutting one’s hair off in middle age signifies that youth is in the past or if it’s some kind of fashion construct.
being Indian, I have been pressured by my mother and female relatives to have long hair, but I don’t like it, it’s not my style and it’s not me. I’ve even been asked by South Asians and other groups if I am half-white becuase they can’t believe that a 100% Indian female would have such short hair .__.
Good for you. Hope you’re enjoying your new hairstyle!
This entry made me smile. Honestly, it could have been written by me about two years ago (though I was only 18, and it wouldn’t have been nearly so eloquent). After my first semester of college, I cut off about 12-13 inches of my long hair – which was down to the small of my back – on a whim. Like you, my hair was something of a security blanket for me, so I don’t really know why I decided to cut it. I guess I just felt it was time to shed the “old” me and embrace the woman I’d become, particularly since my first semester was not exactly a good experience. I thought I would cry at the salon when it was being cut, since I’d grown so attached to it, but honestly, it was incredibly freeing. I donated it as well, which was something I had wanted to do for years.
So many of my friends were devastated when I told them I was cutting it. Pardon the slight conceit, but I had beautiful hair. It was long, straight, and very shiny. My friends envied it, and my boyfriend at the time loved it. I knew that I might not be considered as conventionally “attractive” with shorter hair, but it was just something I wanted to do.
I didn’t cut it very short at first – just touching the tops of my shoulders – but in the two years since, it has creeped shorter and shorter. Now I have a chin-length slightly angled bob with side bangs, and it’s my favorite hairstyle I’ve ever had. I still feel as beautiful and sexy as I did with my long hair, but in a different way. My boyfriend now, who never knew me with long hair, mentioned that he thought I looked more confident with shorter hair (at least from what he could tell from pictures XD). Plus, I certainly don’t miss the maintenance that my long hair required – it took ages to blowdry/flatiron, and I went through insane amounts of shampoo and conditioner.
tl;dr – Thanks for writing this, Courtney. =)
I buried a very close friend at the age of 26, and cut my hair off right before the funeral. At the time, the image I had was of Achilles leaving his hair on Patroklos’ grave. That was a long time ago, but I’m still a big fan of marking major changes on the inside with some sort of change on the outside.
I couldn’t agree more with many of the things you said in this! I cut off most of my hair about six months ago, because I was sick of washing my extremely thick long hair. I didn’t realize how much of a statement it turned out to be.
I especially second you on “And in the larger culture, of course, long hair denotes femininity and youth and other things glamorized and glorified in our gender binary culture. Cutting off my hair also felt like a bit of a fuck you to that system.” I felt the same way!
Congratulations! Like you and commenter Gretchen, I too am a young woman who’s had long (never shorter than my shoulders, but usually around waist-length) hair my entire life and who recently decided to cut it. I’d toyed with the idea of chopping it off for years, but it definitely did feel like sort of a comforting extra appendage that I imagined I’d feel naked without. Even when I came out as a lesbian a few years ago, I decided against the traditional short-haircut-as-declaration; in addition to my general reluctance, I felt like it would be a capitulation to ideas of what a lesbian looks like, so I decided to keep it even though I could have gone for a look that was much more recognizably queer. (Ironically, my girlfriend really enjoyed my long hair, having always had short hair herself.) Finally, after some urging by friends and my sister (“You’ve had the same hair forever. Just chop it!”), I cut off and donated 14 inches this past August, leaving me with a chin-length bob. I, like Gretchen, expected to freak out – I joked with my stylist that it might start to bleed when he started cutting – but surprisingly loved it immediately. I’m letting it grow to shoulder length now to protect my neck from the winter cold, but I can’t wait until it’s warm enough that I can get a dykey wedge cut with long side bangs.
Enjoy your new literal lightheadedness!
It’s funny, I am going through the opposite. After wearing my hair chin-length or shorter for 10+ years, I grew it out because I just wanted a change. And you’re right about how society (or, ahem, many men) seems to equate femininity with long hair — I have experienced a marked increase in the amount of unwanted attention from dudes. Still, I’m having fun wearing it long. Mainly because it’s different for me. It will also be fun to chop it all off again.
My family members often bug
me to let my hair grow
longer like it used to be
before the 7th grade. I do
not see their problem and it
is my hair. It’s not radical
looking (a short,chin length,
puffy-when-it-wants-to bob)
but everybody wants me to
look more “feminine” (it’s
still girly!). Odd.
Courtney you always had nice
hair, well it’s even more
sweeter!
Growing up, I had super short hair because my mom didn’t want to deal with long hair (and she had short hair herself). I distinctly remember some kid mistaking me a for a boy when I was about 7 or 8, and I decided that when I was old enough to make my own hair decisions I’d grow my hair out, which I did for awhile in high school and college.
Nowadays it’s back to being short again (although a lot more flattering than my mom had it!), and I really like it. I’ve never associated internal changes with external changes, mostly because I have a lot of fun playing with my appearance as a general rule (I dye my hair constantly, I’ve gotten several piercings, etc), but I do love having short hair in a society where women are expected to have long hair. I even had a coworker warn me off going to the Village because I might be attracting “certain women” – so short hair=lesbian, apparently. I’m especially excited about being a short-haired bride in September – brides always seem to have glamorous, complicated hairstyles, so mine’ll be something different!
In her brilliant book, Femininity, Susan Brownmiller examines the cultural visual markers of what it means to be “feminine” in American society. She examined such stereotypical attributes as wearing makeup, heels, skirts, long hair, etc. She concluded that these markers all had something in common: they tended to inflict pain or otherwise make women more vulnerable to a physical attack.
My girlfriend has shoulder length hair. I think it looks beautiful, although it does tend to get in the way when I approach her from behind to kiss her on her neck.
Oh, and Courtney, not to be rude, but if you just turned thirty, you’re actually at the dawn of your fourth decade, not your third.
Thank you Courtney for this article! I used to have butt length hair and it gave me headaches and had split ends like crazy because I braided it a lot. It got cut soon thereafter and I’ve had it very short for about eight years now. I can’t imagine going back to long hair and all it’s maintenance. This takes about five minutes to fix up and I’m out the door. Sure, the menz all have problems with my somewhat butch looking hair, but I don’t care. I didn’t do it for them, I don’t live for them, I don’t need their input to validate my existence. So yeah I guess my buzz cut was a big FU to the Femininity Police.
Congrats on graduating out of your security blanket, Courtney!
I chopped my long locks about 4 years ago. I was 21 and in college and had been wearing my hair long for about 10 years. I always loved experimenting with my hair, dying it different colors, wearing it curly or straight or braided or in an elaborate bun on top of my head. Cutting it off seemed like a fun new experiment to me.
I was really taken aback by the reaction I got when I told people my plan. Family, friends, and acquaintences were aghast that I’d cut my hair. And it wasn’t like I was shaving my head, I was looking for something just above shoulder-length. I had multiple people tell me I couldn’t cut my hair because it was my trademark part of my identity. My mother’s (male) coworkers told me they knew I’d regret it. Some of my friends told me I wouldn’t be me without my hair.
Well, all of that really pissed me off. I had fun experimenting with my hair because I felt the opposite about it. I didn’t think my hair defined me, I felt like my hair was a little creative outlet for me. I felt the same way about my hair styles as I felt about nail polish and jewelry. Fun to play with but totally expendable. The negative reactions sealed my decision to get rid of it.
Interestingly, I now have alternate reactions to my short hair that I don’t particularly like either. My SO doesn’t think its the hairstyle of a 25-year-old, he thinks it is more mature (which he feels matches my personality). Apparently long hair really is a sign of youth. People who never knew me with long hair say they can’t imagine me with anything other than the bob, so apparently the hair is still seen as my trademark.
I should probably thank the hair for taking some of the attention off my boobs, but its still really irritating that people are so much more invested in my look than I am. Maybe everyone just fears change.
Hair politics!!!
I have very short hair. I like it that way. I am always struck however that people find my hair to be fair game in “polite conversation” (so is a lot of other pointless crap). Everyone from family members to Subway sandwhich makers will let me know that I should let my hair grow out, that they don’t like short hair on “girls” and ask me why I don’t just try to have it longer. What the junk, people? It seems like every time I cut my hair, someone will tell me what a mistake I have made.
p.s. For a really interesting story on cutting your hair and feminism there is a great story in Outlaw Women by Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz.
I’ve thought about hair alot. A few years ago, I went and cut my hair short and got bangs (!). It was tough but it turned out that I felt sexier and better looking than I ever did with long hair.
Occasionally, I feel pressured to grow my hair out, just knowing that guys enjoy and tend to prefer long hair. But then I have to remind myself, fuck them, I want a guy who likes me the way I like me. And that’s with short hair
Did you darken your hair Court? it looks good.
I loved this!
Since we’re all sharing-
When I was about 12, I decided to get my hair cur “boy-short,” because I wanted to look like my mom, who had the “Demi Moore” cut from when Ghost was popular. Unfortunately, I had barely started puberty and was a skinny little thing, and got constantly mistaken for a boy, which seriously traumatized me so much that I vowed to never, ever cut my hair that short again. I’ve always had short styles, but more the angled, chin-length bob, never shorter.
Cut to a year ago, at 25, I just decided I wanted a pixie cut, I’d had all sorts of fabulous feminist revelations and all that cliched crap, and I was finally brave enough to do it. And OMG. I felt amazing. I have had it short since.
Admittedly, I plan on growing it out now, after my third short cut in the past year, but only because I get bored of hairstyles quickly. I still loe the way it looks!
I loved this comment, especially this : “I didn’t do it for them, I don’t live for them, I don’t need their input to validate my existence.” I’m sure part of it is socialization, but I still find myself stuck in the “some random guy didn’t think I was cute, life sucks” mood sometimes, and I’m certainly sick of it. You’re right…we don’t need their input to validate our existence.
There’s a line of thought that resents middle-aged women who keep their hair long, mostly propagated by other middle-aged women of the sort who like to disdain or be hostile to other women.
Basically, a middle-aged woman who keeps her hair long is retaining a beautiful aspect to her appearance that is considered the province of more youthful women—this takes courage, and also makes her stand out against the population of middle-aged women. Men tend to like it. The result is that it triggers resentment from certain other women, who don’t dare try growing out their hair or don’t believe they could pull the look off so well.
There’s an aspect of jealousy to it, combined with a feeling that she’s acting above her station, so to speak. Acting too good for herself. She’s as old as they are, yet she’s rejecting the cultural imperatives they’ve accepted, refusing to “act her age”—be less sexual and less beautiful and less youthful, the way they’ve accepted feeling and acting. And she gets rewarded for it, too.
The excuse, of course, is that she’s “pathetically trying to hold onto her youth, and fooling no one,” and “should stop, because she’s embarrassing herself and doesn’t realize it.” This is rarely true, but it’s one of those cases where success is not a defense, because it’s the success that they have the biggest problem with.
This is so neat, I love hearing everyone’s stories! I think many women have a special kind of relationship with their hair. The best friend/worst enemy kind. Some external markings of internal changes are important to completing our understanding of ourselves. As we grow up, we get taller, older, our bodies change, and then we hit our 20s, 30s, and while we’re still learning, the outside doesn’t always reflect it as much.
For me, I’ve had a kind of 5 year pattern. I’ll cut off all my hair, keep it short for a year or two, then grow it all out and do it again. I remember doing it in Grade 8 the best, I was a self-conscious bookworm who always wore my long hair in a ballet-style bun. I was a dancer, it was just easier. I was worried about going to high school and all the other changes. After I donated my hair I felt new, confident, and ready for anything the world threw at me. I eventually grew it out to long locks by grade 12, then cut it off again for a new, shorter cut just right for waking up and running to class at university.
Now, after a difficult couple of years of running myself crazy (chronic overacheiver/perfectionist who is learning her lesson), I want to start again, to say to my body that I’m really committed to changing this time, that I’ll slow things down and stop being so hard on myself. My appointment is on Thursday! Wish me luck!
I can really identify with this post. I cut off about 10 inches of my hair in September and then cut it even shorter in November. I started grad school in Sept. and I remember having a conversation with my supervisor about how I felt like I *needed* to cut my hair off. She told me that lots of people make changes in their lives when they start grad school–have kids, get married, get divorced, etc.
Cutting my hair off came with a few different changes–different clothes, different people in my life, engaging in new ideas and activisms. And it definitely felt like a bit of a “fuck you” to a few people who were made uncomfortable by my decision. After I posted a picture on facebook, there was a flurry of comments about liking or disliking it. I was surprised at the audacity of some people, who outright told me it was too short and then asked if I liked it. As if I made the decision by mistake.
My step-dad half-jokingly told me I had five weeks to grow it back (before I returned home for the holiday). When he saw it for the first time, he said, somewhat awkwardly, “Well, I guess you can’t please everyone.” To which I replied, “Who said I was trying to?”
Even the little things can be empowering.
After reading all the comments here, I’m beginning to think that age isn’t a huge factor either. Here’s the part where I share my story:
When I was in pre-school I had short pixie hair because my mom didn’t want to deal with it. In 1st grade I got to decide what my hair would look like and of course wanted to grow it out. I have very thick straight brunette hair. Oh how I longed for curls… (another story)
In the 8th grade I decided one cold December day that I would cut off my hair that was down to my butt. I was sick of it; I mean fifteen minutes to wash it and an hour to blow dry it is a bit much! I cut off about 7 inches so my hair was just above my shoulder blades. At school the next day there were comments aplenty. A lot of them were how for a lot of my classmates part of my identity was my long hair.
I was no older than 13 at the time (24 now), and ever since then my hair length has hovered from my shoulder blades to my chin (terrible look in humididty!). I find that I now get irritated if it gets past my shoulder blades. I’m just now willing to put up with it now.
When I was 17, I cut off all my hair. Went in for graduation group photos with long hair, came in for graduation with short hair. Everyone was pretty shocked, since I’d had long hair since I was a wee tot.
Cutting it off was something new and something that made sense to me. I dunno how else to say it. For years I had resisted getting it cut, and it was usually close to butt-length. My mom was awful to me about my hair. I have loads of very fine hair that tangled somewhat easily, and she would yank and claim that you HAD to yank the knots and that it “didn’t work” to hold the hair at the base (so that it wasn’t hurting your scalp). She would tell me that she was going to come in in the middle of the night and cut my hair off while I slept. She told me if I ever got lice I’d have to have my head shaved. She was simply awful about my long hair, and I refused to have it any other way.
Then I had it cut and kept it short for about three years. (Afterwards I realized the maintenance my hair required to remain short was too much of a pain in the ass. Stylists could never cut it right and always said they were finished when I still had a LOT of hair left to be cut.) But one day, in one of her tantrums, do you know what my mom said?
“I HATED IT WHEN YOU GOT YOUR HAIR CUT. IT WAS SO UGLY BUT I JUST NEVER SAID ANYTHING TO YOU.”
This was the woman who had threatened me FOR YEARS that she was going to shave my head and cut it all off in my sleep. I think it wasn’t the haircut that pissed her off so much as the fact that I did what I wanted with my own body. (She’s also seriously pissed that I won’t have sex with anyone. Like, ragingly pissed. It’s really odd.)
I read a comment not long ago where someone said that wearing your hair long after 30 was “false advertising”. That really annoyed me. Advertising for what? And false how? “Oh, I’m not really funloving anymore, sorry I confused you.”
For a long time I associated shorter haircuts with attaining motherhood, because it was a hassle to deal with longer hair when the tots were tangling in it and time was short (which do I need more today, sleep or a shower?). We’re supposed to “give in” to the “reality” of “not being attractive anymore” and just cut it off. After all, once you’ve landed a man and are busy with the kids, you need a wash ‘n’ go cut, and you’re off the market anyway.
I keep my hair longer because my face and body are kinda round, and a short haircut just emphasizes that. I need more hair to balance the rest of me! Besides, none of my other features are anything to write home about, so I need everything I’ve got.
I feel cutting your hair “short and sensible” just because you’ve reached 40 or whatever is the same as saying “Oh well, pull-on slacks and slip-on shoes for me now, I’m practically a senior citizen.” Plus once you start going *gray* OMG there is just so much of that gray hair to look at! Better to cut it off!
In prior generations most women had long hair their whole lives, so I resent the newer idea that one should cut it when older, just because you’re older. Of course if you don’t feel like dealing with it anymore, chop it, but dammit, do whatever you please.
I have long hair, which I prefer. For me, it’s much easier to care for than when it’s short b/c I have a lot of natural wave/frizz which gets conveniently managed by gravity. Since I don’t spend a lot of time on it, it looks pretty boring most of the time (low pony tail or braid).
But I feel a lot of pressure to cut it, some direct and some indirect. I get the sense that it’s about acting my “role” (professional, mother, 35 yo). I wonder if others think that I’m trying to act younger than I am, and “fooling no one” (as Kyra Cat Soul alluded above). The frustrating thing about that is that I’m not trying to look younger, I’m just keeping my hair in a convenient style. Shorter hair means more time blow-drying and fussing with it, which interests me not at all.
On top of this is pressure to dye it, as a few grey strands appear. Dyeing seems difficult (and expensive) with long hair, and I’m actually not sure how I plan to resist it as I get older.
I started cutting my hair short as a freshman in college… it got super-short – 2 inches long – when I was a junior. I have a really little face and honestly, short hair looks better on me! I like it a lot better, and I actually had hairdressers convince me to keep it short even when I expressed an interest in growing it out again.
I am growing it out again because I am an actress (off and on) and having very short hair is restrictive to getting certain roles, because, they say, it isn’t very versatile. I don’t buy this line of hooey. For one thing, there are weaves and wigs. Problem solved, especially if one is on stage, as I am almost exclusively when I act.
As someone who’s worked on both ends of the audition circuit, I can tell you that it is tough going to get the “sexy” role if you’re a gal with short hair. Short hair, you see, doesn’t fill the stereotype of “sexy,” and it takes a director who is willing to extend his/her preconceptions about what he wants the character to look like, and how he sees sexiness in his personal life, to take a chance on an unconventional beauty. I can’t tell you how many of these roles I’ve auditioned for only to see the part go to a gal with long hair. It’s fine, I’m not angry. But it’s annoying. Should I grow my hair out to get those roles, or say, No no no! I’m still feminine (and I’m pretty feminine,) I’m just feminine with short hair.
To be honest, some women are pretty uncomfortable with the concept of short hair, and I think that some, when they cut it short, are so uncomfortable with their appearances that they sabotage themselves and become overly self conscious. I’ve gone to the hairdresser so many times for a trim to have other women say to me, I love your hair, but I could never do that!, or You look good! only to turn to their hairdressers to say, Do whatever you want, just don’t cut it all off. Let’s face it, if a woman isn’t comfortable with the hairstyle, it’s going to show, and that self-consciousness is more inhibiting than the hair (or lack thereof) itself.
Anyway, enjoy the short hair! It’s a blessing!
Hair is really touchy for me. I lost most of my hair due to illness, and it’s never going to grow back (I’m just saying that because I don’t want any well meaning advice on how to grow it back).
It really sucks. Peaple comment about it all the time, and it makes me feel terrible. Good, natural wigs are hideously expensive (several thousand dollars, money I just don’t have) and of course uncomfortable. If I were a man, it would be no big deal.
I’ve weighed more and less, and I have to say that even at my heaviest, it doesn’t bother me because I can always look around and see women with my body. But I NEVER see young women without hair in the subway. It’s pretty impossible to feel feminine.
I have quite a different take on this. I have pretty long long hair (mid-back length), and it has been that way almost all of my life. In high school I got bored and cut it quite short, and spent the next two years suffering while it grew out. Basically, my hair is more low-maintenance when it’s long; when it’s short it looks all poofy and weird and it’s impossible to put back in a bun, which is almost always my hairstyle of choice.
As someone who finds it convenient to have my hair long, I get irritated at the generalization perpetuated by makeover shows and the like, that long hair represents some sort of inability to be modern or fashionable. I don’t like that people are pressured to change their hair every season like some sort of accessory – it’s just another way to get women to spend their money. Does that make sense?
That’s not to say, of course, that I don’t respect those who feel that cutting their hair represents an act of defiance: I simply wanted to show that in my case, keeping my hair represents the same thing.
Well…I’m beginning to feel like my gigantic, superlong hair means I’ve given in.
Naomi: I hope this doesn’t sound patronizing or otherwise horrible, but I really like how women look with no hair or very little hair. I think it brings out facial features in a really flattering way. I know I can’t relate because I’ve never had to deal with a hairstyle I didn’t choose for myself, but I just wanted to let you know that I think women with no or little hair generally look gorgeous. I’m scared that this sounds patronizing, but I just wanted to make it known that there are people who find little/ no hair attractive!
General comment: I have very short hair, and I like that I feel like I’m kind of saying “fuck you” to gender roles (like Courtney said, in a small way). Personally, I feel sexier with short hair because I feel like it highlights my facial features more.
When I first cut my hair, multiple people asked me “your boyfriend let you do that?” How disgusting of a question is that?! I didn’t ask his permission, thanks.