It wasn't my hair

I'm the one with the yellow socks. This photo was taken two days before I shaved.

For seven years, I have kept my hair cuts very minimal. I've added layers and trimmed a little, but I've refrained from chopping more than an inch or two (save the time I got a haircut in Japan and the hair dresser took 4 inches).

My hair has been a problem for me my whole life. It has always tangled badly. I made a bad decision to ask for a perm in the third grade. I've made many bad haircut decisions.

My freshman year of high school, I got the worst haircut I've ever had and I resolved to grow it out.

Despite its flaws, like managing to tangle even if I sit completely still without any wind or catching in the door or bringing about a fresh Oklahoma wind storm, I adored my long hair.

And then I shaved it all off for St. Baldrick's.

Last Tuesday, after betting my hair against a fundraising goal, I sat down hacked off 15 inches (which was donated to an organization that makes wigs for children with cancer)and shaved the rest off. The intention is to show children that bald can be beautiful.

I felt like a hypocrite in the moments before I sat down. I was scared I'd be ugly. I was terrified that I would want to hide from the world. I felt like my long hair was the only thing that made me beautiful. I cried in the days leading up to the shave. "How could I possibly stand in front of anyone and proclaim 'bald is beautiful' when I can't feel good about this decision?" I asked myself.

It wasn't all bad. There were plenty of times I shouted "I can't wait to be bald so I don't have to deal with this."

I was so wrong.

I've never felt more beautiful. I love going out. I do wear hats and headbands every day, but the day we shaved, a cold front came through Oklahoma and it's gotten worse every day. I prefer the headbands, because they show off my head better.

I went out every night this weekend. The response has been overwhelming. Genuine compliments and the most spiritually fulfilling hugs.

The taxi driver Saturday said as I got in "You're rocking the same haircut I did in 2009." I explained that I shaved for St. Baldrick's. So had she. We spent the ride commiserating over the liberation shaving our heads has brought and how quickly our fears were calmed after it was done.

There are huge perks, of course. Where I used to spend no less than 30 minutes getting ready (blow drying that much hair took at least 20 minutes), I can shower and be ready in less than ten. When it snowed yesterday, I realized I wouldn't have to put my hair up and deal with the loosening ponytail and bangs in my face during snowball fights.

I've realized that I am so much more than my hair. I've been wrapped up in my vanity for so long, and shaving forced me to step back from that and assess myself. I'm terribly humbled by what I'm finding out about Melodie and her friends.

I don't honestly think I could have done this as a child. I have the utmost respect for children who are forced into being bald. It takes a lot of guts to feel beautiful at such a vulnerable age as is. I can't imagine what it takes to feel good about yourself when you have no say in the matter.

Overall, I've never felt more beautiful, but a lot of that comes from the people in my life. Their love and support makes me feel beautiful, not what I see when I look in the mirror (although I feel so fierce rocking this 'do). How's that for introspection?

If you'd like to donate to St. Baldrick's, the fabulous organization that directs their funds specifically to childhood cancer (which has a HUGE mortality rate but a tiny percentage of research funding) you can do so here:

https://www.stbaldricks.org/donate/participant/736699/2014

If you'd like to know more about St. Baldrick's before you donate, you can inspect their (impressive) Charity Navigator profile here:

http://www.charitynavigator.org/index.cfm?bay=search.summary&orgid=12540#.VGos7m...