In Praise of BOLDNESS (And Fresh Scalps)

January 1, 2021 I shaved my head. Well, to be more precise, I asked my stylist to shave it.

This was the 2^nd time in my life to be bald. The first time I went for it was in 2001. My mom was losing her hair due to chemo for colon cancer, so my big sister, partner and I all shaved in solidarity. It ended up being pretty hilarious because in the months following, my mom (the actual cancer patient) looked great with her real-human hair wig, while the 3 of us who were healthy walked around with doo-rags and/or shiny heads looking like chemo patients.

The first time I ever shaved my head - November 2001

But 2021 was different.

I wasn’t shaving in support of someone else.

I was shaving for ME.

I was taking control of one thing I could control – MYSELF.

2020 was a year out-of-control. Covid 19. Isolation. No socialization. Loneliness. Plans, big plans, cancelled. The whole world seemed to invert and crash down on my chest. And your chest. And EVERYONE’S chest. It was a year of survival without a whole lot of celebration.

Bald (or nearly bald - growing back) 2001

And that is what led to shaving to start off 2021. I felt like it was a huge “out with the old, in with the new!!”. Little did I know that 5 days later things would become even worse when racist rioters attacked the very democracy of our country…

But those 5 days of baldness and new beginning – DAMN. They felt glorious.

I felt bold. Decisive. Ready.

Shaving on the back porch January 1, 2021

So much of our culture is wrapped up in traditional definitions of beauty. And for women, much of that is face and hair related. Even now during a pandemic, some women are still coloring their hair and spending hours styling it daily, when the only place they are going is the grocery store… Whose version of “beautiful” are we trying to be??

Last full family Christmas - cruise December 2001. See the woman in the middle? That's my mom. She looks great in her wig! See the 3 people on the left side? We had all shaved in solidarity.

And here’s what I think. Trigger alert: in this life, most of us will lose our hair at some point due to chemo or radiation. Seriously, we all will be sick at some point, right? Unless we get hit by a bus or drown in some freak snorkeling incident, many of us will have cancer. So, you are probably going to be bald at SOME POINT. Why not make the decision YOURSELF to go for it? Be bold and CHOOSE to rock your scalp.

So here is your invitation ladies – want to shave with me? I am shaving again on Sunday March 21st. I invite you to join me. If you live nearby and want to go for it, come to my backyard that afternoon and I will pay for your shave! My stylist Gilbert is gentle, fun, and supportive. I had to talk him into shaving me because he was nervous.

Before you say no – let me refute your arguments:

1. “But my scalp is/may be bumpy/ugly/gross…” – NO IT ISN’T. You haven’t ever seen it, have you? And if it is bumpy, so what!! So are your kneecaps, and you never complain about them.

2. “But won’t I look like a chemo patient?” – Maybe. But who cares? You will be YOU. Same smile. Same twinkle in your eyes. Just no hair!

3. “What if I HATE IT?” – Guess what? Hair grows back! Like, super quick! Also, that’s why god invented hats. And scarves. If you do it and absolutely hate hate hate it – tie a scarf around your head and call it a day. But you won’t hate it.

4. “Sure Susan – YOU rock a bald head. But I could never do that. – SERIOUSLY, that is what EVERY. WOMAN. TOLD. ME. Every woman! So…. That means I am the ONLY FEMALE IN THE LAND WHO CAN BE COMFORTABLE BEING BALD? No. Just no. You can totally rock it! Throw on a little lipstick, you will be fine!! 😊

5. “But my husband/boyfriend/girlfriend/partner/parents would hate it!” – Girl. You. Do. You. If someone else in your life wouldn’t like it, then they need to examine that &*%$. Because your hair (and the rest of you) belong to YOU, and you make decisions about it!

I am putting it out there as a CHOICE. How much of your self-worth is wrapped up in what grows on your head? What would happen if you flipped the script?

January 2, 2021.

If you accept my offer and shave your head, you will feel LIBERATED. You will feel brave and bold. Your head will feel chilly, but it will be a chill of excitement! Of decisiveness. Of fresh beginnings.

And you will rock it.

The Days Are Getting Shorter

The days are getting shorter. The sun, that brilliant star that lights our lives, is setting earlier. Bit by bit, every evening. This time of year is always a bit sad for me. It is a form of closure. Saying “goodbye” to another summer. Somehow, it is hard for me to couch it as saying “hello” to another winter. In my mind I know that is logical, but in my heart, another summer has passed to mourn. I haven’t felt my best the last couple of days. I put it down to stress – the big annual fundraiser I host is quickly approaching, and at the same time my job, my main source of income, is being threatened to disappear (health insurance along with it). So yeah, stress could make my body not function properly, right? Only, as the second day of feeling “off” wore on, it became harder and harder to ignore that things just weren’t right. It came to a head on a 25-minute car ride. We had met a friend for dinner and had a lovely time. It was so fun catching up

The Girl Who Can't Ride a Bike

I am “the girl who can’t ride a bike”. I guess to be accurate, I should say that I WAS “the girl who can’t ride a bike”. But it was such a big part of my identity growing up, that the never formalized (but often teased about) nickname stuck in my psyche. You know how most kids love to jump on their bikes and pedal around the neighborhood once they have figured out how to balance, brake, and GO? Yeah, that wasn’t me. I wasn’t that kid. I am not sure WHAT really happened. The one thing I do remember is being on a bike in my family’s garage in Omaha, Nebraska trying to ride my bike. It must’ve been winter, otherwise, why wouldn’t I have been outdoors?? But I think my foot slipped off the pedal and I know for sure my knee hit the handlebar. It hurt. I remember crying. But I am guessing that it hurt my pride more than it hurt my knee. I think I was already past the age where kids were “supposed” to ride a bike. But then and there I must’ve secretly made

The Presents

We are old. Giving gifts has always meant a lot to me. I was raised in a household that valued gifts, valued “things” actually. At Christmas time, the base of our tree would be piled hiiiigh with presents wrapped in brightly colored paper tied with neatly curled ribbons. Birthdays would mean being spoiled by more gifts. Even Valentine’s Day came with a present. So, without being overtly taught, I learned that love was shown by giving something tangible. As I became an adult, I noticed people older than me asking for things for the holidays that I thought were silly – cheese, wine, nuts… “Those aren’t PRESENTS,” I remember thinking. “Presents are touchable, physical things – things to be KEPT, not to be consumed.” So, when I found my life partner, I showered him with GIFTS. Gifts wrapped just as I had been subconsciously taught must be wrapped in beautiful paper, tied tight with a bow. But it didn’t take long for me to notice that my love and

Random Thoughts

Search This Blog