Short Hair, Don't Care (or do I?)

Hair.  My hair has pretty much been the bane of my existence forever.  Early on I remember the pain of pigtails and barrettes, even though I think I liked them.  Then when I was about five, my mom cut my hair really short.  I think you'd call it a pixie, but I look back and all I see is "boy".

My best friend happened to have really pretty long hair (and those barrettes with the very thin, colorful braided ribbons that cascaded down) and I was so jealous, so I started growing my hair out.  By third grade I got some length, but somehow it ended up as a very bad mullet.  Finally by fourth grade it was better but not great and I had no idea how to do anything with it so I spent the next 4+ years in an array of colorful headbands to keep my stringy long hair under some sort of control.  But looking back, it was not good.

By sometime in eighth grade, after much teasing at school, the headbands had to go.  My mom did my hair every day, as my fine, thin hair was prone to every sort of bump and lump as you tried to put it up, and I just couldn't do it.  So it was either a ponytail, half ponytail, or a French braid.  Better, but a full set of bangs remained and were constantly split down the middle.  But, ahhhh, it was 1992 and guess what was in style?  So, after a bit of experimenting I wore the puffy, hairsprayed bangs for a handful of months, and almost felt normal for a while.  But then, on my last day of summer camp early in the summer of '92, our entire cabin woke up late and no one had time to shower.  I was forced to leave my hair as it was when I brushed it out the night before--side part, bangs swept to the side.  And it was almost like I realized instantly that it looked fine and was so much easier...because I never went back.  And, for better or worse, that's been my hairdo ever since.  The length has changed, from the middle of my back to nearly shaved up the back; from curled ends to pin straight; once-upon-a-time highlights and later some bangs.  But for 27 years the core of it hasn't changed--the side part remains.  You'd think by now I'd know what works and what doesn't, what makes me feel good and what makes me feel frumpy.  And yet, Thursday night I couldn't decide how to get my hair cut until I'd already been in the chair for about 20 minutes.  Sigh.

Normally I'd just blame my usual indecisiveness.  But I feel like this time it's something bigger.  I'm having a hair identity crisis, and I think I'm actually blaming 40 for it.  I feel like I've handled 40 really well until now.  I felt pretty good right around my birthday, having worked out a lot the prior month, and no one could believe I was 40, so clearly I was doing something right.  But since then I've thought a lot about appropriateness and what my age might mean about my hair, wardrobe, etc.  I mean, we all want to be the cool old lady, but there's a point where cool gets too cool for a certain age, and I just don't want to go there.  So I critically look at clothes and think about whether it skews too junior, or even if it ages me prematurely.  At what age is it weird to have long hair?  Does short hair aging me prematurely (i.e., mom hair), or conversely, making me too cute to command the respect my age should have earned me?  I'm trying not to overthink it, mind you, but my complete inability to choose a hair length made me realize I'm just not sure who this newly-40 version of me actually is.

It's been so long since my hair was short that I'm not sure if it still fits me and my personality.  Will short hair look sleek and spunky?  Or will it be mom hair?  Is my long hair as feminine as I imagine, or is it just a feeble attempt at staying young?  Over the last year I just sort of adapted to where my hair was.  I don't know if that was just a natural flow or if it was simply laziness/busyness, but I guess it worked.  It was actually going very well until about a month ago when I started feeling like it just suddenly got long and I wasn't sure what to do with it.  I honestly forgot I could even put it up for something other than working out--hence why long hair is probably not the best idea for me.  I don't do anything with it anyway, so there's probably little point in growing it long.

In a panic, while I waited for the stylist, I looked through all the pictures of me in Facebook.  I was shocked at just how much my hair length varied.  It moved back and forth through high school and college...

The long...

...the short...

...and the in between!

It was long before I got married...

...then short, and really short by the time Jacob was born.

Then it went longer again pretty much through when Carter was born...

I had to cut it when I realized Carter had a death grip, at which point it stayed pretty in between for a while until this last round of long hair again.  And by long I mean maybe an inch past my collarbone.  All of those lengths have their pros and cons.  Any time there was a picture I liked, there was another at the same length that I wasn't thrilled with.  If my hair is too long, it just hangs there and can look stringy.  Sometimes I think I'm having negative flashbacks to the awkward long hair of my youth.  If it's too short, it can look weird from certain angles.  Being short also brings with it the risk it won't be cut quite right or lay quite right.  But when it looks good at that length, it's great.  Clearly I'm pretty comfortable at almost any length, but I had a heck of a time deciding what to do this time.

Another issue was that my hair hadn't been cut in a year, so I figured it needed some cleaning up at the very least.  In the end I asked the stylist to take off a couple inches and then I'd get a better idea of what I wanted.  When she got to that point, I decided to go all the way.  I asked for up to my shoulders, but it actually ended up a bit above.

The end result - if only my skin was as great as selfies make it look!

I actually think it's a tiny bit shorter than I'd prefer, but considering how quickly my hair can grow, I think it will grow into a good in between spot pretty quickly.  It seems to be laying ok, though I'm not sure it's the best I've had.  It might need more shaping or something, but it'll do for now.  Everyone likes it and it feels really healthy.  So, as far as everyone else is concerned (well, except Jacob, who never likes my hair short), it's great.

As for me, I'm still not sure who I am with this hair.  It surprises me every time I see myself in the mirror, and even Craig looks at me funny when he sees me.  He insists he likes it but it's just so different, and I guess I can't deny that because I have the same reaction.  Maybe he sees a younger version of me and it doesn't quite compute yet.  I do think it looks more polished at any given moment, and if anything it makes me look younger (which is odd because I feel like long hair is a younger thing), but it's still going to take some getting used to.  Will it change how I see myself?  Will a different length jump out to me as "the one", or will I slowly but surely revert to where it was, either from laziness or a continued inability to find a length that feels like "me"?  The jury's out, but it's definitely been an odd little journey.  I never thought my self-image was so tied up in my hair, but apparently it is!  I guess even at 40 you can learn new things about yourself.  #thisis40hairedition