I have had my hair uber short three times in my life:
When I was in Grade Eight I had a tail. Over the summer, I decided to have the back shaved in steps and keep the tail. The front was long and bleached out from the sun, and my mum had let me use some of the leftover bleach from her “Frost ‘n’ Tips” to bleach out my tail.
The summer going into Grade Nine was the first time I had super short hair. I remember my mum telling me “your dad’s gonna hate it”. She was right. He wanted me to “look more feminine”. I didn’t care. It was the first time my hair ever looked edgy and cool.
In 1995, after my mission, but before I got married, I had a horrible self-inflicted experience with hair dye. I may or may not have blogged about it recently. A haircut actually fixed the dye issue, but once the re-growth had become long enough, I decided on a little-boy haircut and had it all cut off. What freedom! It took me less than 10 minutes to get ready for work in the morning (from jammies to shutting the front door). I loved it.
I met my husband via email shortly after cutting my hair all off. Because we met through writing, when we were planning on meeting face-to-face, we had to describe ourselves to each other. This is what I said in regards to my hair: “I have short hair, like, REALLY short. Like a missionary hair-cut – the Elder kind.” *the boy missionaries that have really short conservative haircuts are called Elder Lastname or referred to as “the Elders”. The girl missionaries are Sister Lastname, or “the Sisters”.
Now just recently, I have cut my hair all off. The reasons being 1) too look more edgy and cool, and 2) to cut off my old colour.
Each time I have had short hair I have love, love, loved it, but I always end up growing it back out. The fun of growing your hair out from a short cut is that you get to have a new and different hairstyle every two months. While I am looking forward to that adventure, I am actually thinking that I might keep it short short for a while as everyone in my family HATES it.