Life’s Too Short: Why I Shaved My Head and Loved Every Minute of It
A Half Inch of Hair and the Freedom to Be Me
Let’s make one thing clear: I did NOT shave my head because of cancer. But I DID shave my head because of cancer.
Picture this: last year there were a couple of days when I genuinely thought I might be dying. Not the “oh, stop being so dramatic” kind of fear. It was a legit concern. I knew I had cancer, but the jury was still out on how bad it was. Thankfully it was the “good kind of cancer” (as my oncologist told me…if there is such a thing), the kind that doesn’t require chemo or radiation. Just the kind that tears your abdomen apart and disembowels you. But that’s a story for another time.
Why I shaved my head.
Ever since I was thirteen, I have thought about shaving my head. I wanted to know what it would feel like, what I would look like, how I might interact with the world differently and how the world might interact differently with me.
There’s something liberating about breaking free from the expectations tied to hair—especially for women. Remember Samson and Delilah? Poor guy lost all his strength when she snipped off his locks. If only he’d known about CrossFit. But I digress.
For me, shaving my head was about more than just hair. It was about freedom—from societal beauty standards, from my own fears, from the comfort zone I’d lived in for far too long. My cancer diagnosis threw me into the “life is short” phase and you “gotta take things into your own hands”. So I did, with a hair clipper.
When I shaved my head.
Prior to this diagnosis, my relationship with my hair had been fairly stagnant for 20 years or more. Grow it out. Chop it. Donate it. Rinse and repeat. This time, I wanted it all gone. Buzz…
The weekend before my cancer surgery I considered it. However, I didn’t want my surgeon to come into the room, see me with a bald head, and thus throw him off his A Game. I mean, he was slicing me open, not the ideal time to throw caution to the wind. So, I waited. But as I lay in that hospital bed, I kept thinking, “Why didn’t I just shave it?!” See how it’s in the way? I mean, c’mon get that ponytail outta there!
The following week I chopped it off into a cute bob and donated 11 inches to Children With Hair Loss, (a fantastic organization, by the way).
I liked my new look, but the idea of shaving my head lingered. So, after prepping my incredibly supportive husband Andy for weeks, I knew the time was getting closer. Would I have the guts to do it?
Finally, last October, the day arrived. I went to the local salon for a trim and told her I was thinking about shaving my head. “Why would you do that? You have such lovely hair. You don’t want to do that. How about a shorter cut?” I agreed, and she gave me what turned out to be a 90s soccer mom haircut. I hated it.
After coming home from the disastrous haircut, feeling so not Molly-like, I told Andy it was time.
“To shave your head?” he asked (right away he knew what I was referring to, what a supportive man!) We went upstairs and got his clippers out.
“Here you go,” he said as he handed them to me.
I looked at him, “I have no idea how to use these.”
After a short demonstration, I was ready to go all in. I reached the clippers to the top of my head. And then paused.
“Wait, how short is this?” I asked him.
“It’s what I use to shave my beard,” he replied.
“Your beard! That’s like a bald scalp!” I shrieked.
I wanted to shave my head, but not be completely bald. (Is shaving your head not wholly bald, still considered shaving your head?)
He proceeded to get out the other numbers for the clippers until I settled on the largest size he had, a number 4. A half inch. Perfect. I was ready.
Buzz.
How I Saw Me
Oh my gosh, you guys! I LOVED it! The feeling of my hair falling around me was exhilarating. Excited and giddy, I was thrilled with myself for taking this step. My husband stood by, grinning like he’d just watched me win an Olympic gold medal. When I was done, I looked in the mirror and felt very much that it reflected who I was on the inside. I saw the real me—free, bold, and absolutely thrilled. I was free!
If there’s something you’ve been thinking about doing but keep putting off, stop waiting! Life is too short to live in the “what ifs.”
How It Felt
Shaving my head opened up a whole new world of sensations. One of my favorite things (which I miss now) was feeling the wind against my scalp, like little breeze tickles or kisses on the top of my head.
Another sensation, which I don’t miss, is being cold. All. Of. The. Time. Prior to shaving my head, I watched a YouTube video where a woman said if she did it over, she wouldn’t shave her head in winter. Did I listen? Of course not. But man, was she right. If you’re thinking about shaving your head, do it! But maybe wait for spring.
How Others Saw Me
My interactions with the world changed some. The weeks to follow were filled with various encounters with family, friends, and strangers. Men’s reactions were very similar to one another but utterly opposite of women’s. Take a guess who said which statements:
“What does your husband think?”
“How long will it take to grow back?”
“Only certain faces can pull that off… not sure yours is one of them.”
“Wow! You look great. I’ve always wanted to do that, but I never had the guts!” (which I didn’t have the heart to tell them, well, I don’t have the guts either, but, again, that’s a story for another time).
Yeah, the women were way more supportive than the men. Shocking, I know.
Shaving my head also taught me a lot about how our culture views hair and femininity. More than once, people assumed I was a lesbian. Like the time I checked into a hotel in Sedona and the receptionist asked, “Will your wife be staying with you?” Or when I attended an event with my friend who is gay, and someone asked, “Are you and your partner from here?”
My favorite response was from one of my besties, Kate. She ran up to me in a crowded restaurant, grabbed my head inspecting it from every angle and said, “You look amazing! I can’t see you any other way, this is so you, so Molly.” I felt seen. Accepted. Known. Best friends are like that.
Current Hair Growth
It’s been 10 months since I shaved my head. Here’s the progression, including another shave in November, followed by trims in February, April, and July.
I decided to keep it short in a pixie cut for the summer. This current haircut is the most compliments I have ever received from a haircut in my entire life! Win!
I love it right now in a different way than I loved it shaved. I miss the boldness and badass style of wearing my hair shaved. I miss the feeling of the wind tickling my scalp as it moved across my head. I miss the rocker look (at least I thought) I had going for a while.
At 46, I am still finding out who I am. I like to think I know, but the truth is, I’m always evolving. I am a questioner. A person that pushes the boundaries. Someone who likes to take risks, take chances. Shaving my head was one way to push those boundaries, to risk my “beauty,” and to discover more of who I am. Cancer may have been the catalyst, but the courage was all mine. It opened the door to a new Molly of possibilities. And for that, I am grateful.
IN THE LAST TWO WEEKS 📆
Something I read:
Something I heard: My Heart Will Go On looping in my brain for 7 days straight. I watched Titanic for the first time since seeing it in the theater! So many questions.
Something I saw: Sturgeon Moon rising over Park Point Marina.
