The Big Chop: More Than A Haircut

The Big Chop: More Than A Haircut

In 2018, I had reached such high levels of stress that a large bald spot formed at the top of my head. In the midst of an emotional breakdown, I decided to chop all of my hair off. But I had a hard time accepting the idea of cutting it to buzz cut essentially.

The hair grew back only for a bald spot to return at the start of 2020. I was working in a toxic environment, and that balding only grew when the pandemic hit and I lost my job. Fast forward 3 years later, my body can’t let go of the stress my mind is convinced it has overcome.

So after months (hell, even years) of talking myself out of chopping my hair off, I chopped and buzzed the damaged hair away at the end of last month. Despite some reservations and small precut panic, I actually felt good about the haircut. Which is saying something because it wasn’t barbershop-worthy.

I remember killing the idea of cutting my hair in the past due to the ideas that my husband wouldn’t find me attractive, my head was shaped funny, or I was too fat to have short hair. But my husband has actually been pretty supportive of my decision.

Prior to the big chop, I watched a bunch of TikTok videos to get in the right mindset. For the most part, it felt encouraging to see other black women take on the chop for their own reasons.

When I looked in the mirror to cut off my hair, I saw the damage and realized I was holding on to unhealthy shit. It felt like my hair was the literal embodiment of me holding onto damaging things in my life: people, bad habits, negative thoughts, etc.

I have always seen people talk about how a woman is ready for a change in her life when she does something drastic to her hair. And as cliche as I always thought it was, I am coming to see it as true. While there are still some emotional ties to the loss of my hair, when I look at my short hair, I see new beginnings, hope for new possibilities, and excitement that I can take on anything.

My hair has shown noticeable growth in the past few weeks, which excites me every day. I even went to a dermatologist the day after my haircut to finally have a black woman look at my scalp.

Let me tell you, black women in healthcare make a difference! I went to a dermatologist years ago to examine my scalp for hair issues. He was a white man and was pretty much dismissive. But not this time. I was assigned a nurse practitioner, and the way she listened to me, examined my scalp and gave me treatment options……I almost could have cried. I am looking forward to what my hair will do as I start over.

Have you ever done the big chop? How did you feel before and after?

White Men and Wig Obsessions

White Men and Wig Obsessions

I don’t think I have ever worked somewhere where my hair was a topic of discussion as much as it has been since working for this company. I somewhat blame myself. I allowed myself to be open enough that, somehow, my honesty about a wig has turned into a frequent question about what is on my head.

My director informed me yesterday that the owner of the company asked about my hair. Apparently, he was unable to tell if my real hair was a wig or not. Keep in mind all of my wigs come from Amazon, and they are definitely the cheaper ones. But what I found even odder about the conversation was that he has never had a problem commenting on my hair before to my face, so why the change? But the time he asked, I was rocking my natural hair.

The director then proceeded to tell me that he asked if the other black woman in the office was wearing a wig. The director said, “Oh yea.”

On another note, I do find it interesting that when she started working here, her hair was natural and out. But about a week in, she has worn a wig with no natural hair to be revealed since. There is no judgment, but given that there are only two black women in this company, I wonder if her choice to conceal her natural hair is a conscious one or just a matter of convenience.

Back to me…

What is crazy to me is that the people who have the most comments about my hair are the white men in the office. The IT guy, who comes in once a week, makes a comment every time he sees me, even going as far as to tell me he prefers my real hair.

While I appreciate working for a company that hasn’t tried to punish me for my hair choices (because, let’s be for real, the biases are still real in the corporate world), I am over the fascination. It has taken me years to reach a point where I can leave my house with my natural hair, not in “ideal” curls but in the various levels of curl and puff with confidence. A confidence that comes after years of Eurocentric hair ideals messing with my psyche.

Even with this unwanted spotlight on my hair, I keep my head high, and I own every hairdo I rock to work. But I don’t like the feeling of my relative openness to talk about my hair is starting to make me feel like the star of some sort of freak show.