He shaved his off last week, signaling the time had come.
I thought my hair would be much longer by now, but it is still very, very short. It also appears to be very curly.
My wigs are getting scraggly. I'm tired of wearing them. Last week, I ventured out of the house without. I felt naked, but free. And also very self-conscious. No one looked at me strangely.
So on Sunday I worked up the courage to go to church with my short, short hair. It is such a big, public place. But also a safe place.
I wanted to hide. I had that same feeling when I first cut my hair and when I first wore a wig. So I did the same thing I did then. I stood up extra tall, lifted my head with determined confidence, put on a big, nervous smile, and approached the building.
My fashion-diva friend opened the door. Her face lit up as she enthusiastically exclaimed, "You look gorgeous!" Just what I needed to hear, from just the right person.
People don't seem to think "cancer" or "boy" when they look at me. But this style does have a loud voice. It speaks bold, eccentric, risky, confident, modern. Am I those things? I've always liked my long, safe, mainstream hair. I like to blend in. I like to conform. I like to follow protocol.
Yet maybe this hairstyle does represent the new me. I'm not afraid anymore. I am bold. I am determined. And I am free, from so many things.