12:00PM

It’s noon on Saturday, October 12th, 2024, and in 45 minutes I’m heading to my stylist to have them cut off all of my long hair. I have varied emotions at this moment. I’m feeling an equal mix of excitement and nerves, and therefore couldn’t stop pacing around the house as I wait for it to be time to leave. Writing is a much better use of that energy! 

My hair has been such a large part of my identity for my entire adult life. It’s been the main source of others’ attention to my appearance. People have always commented on it, admired it, and told me they were envious of it. In the past, whenever I mentioned cutting it, that statement was always met with the retort of, “but it’s soooo beautiful, you can’t cut it!” Even through weight fluctuations, wardrobe faux pas, illnesses or any other circumstance that slightly changed how I looked, my lion’s mane was a constant. (For those of you who are into astrology, it will make sense that I’m a Leo Rising.) In light of that, it’s also been a constant source of pride that I’ve held onto for many years. My hair has been the one thing around which I’ve always been able to feel good about myself, even for how much I always complained that it was a pain-in-the-ass to manage. I think all of this combined has been largely influential in why I’ve never been able to get myself to take the plunge and cut it all off. I hate it, but I love it all at the same time.

I wonder what it’s going to feel like to walk through the world for the first time with an unmistakably masculine look…time to go find out.

12:40PM

I’m sitting in the salon waiting and feel a bit more calm, but also feel the jitters taking over my insides. One saving grace is the chill, artsy, queer vibe of the salon. It’s an intimate setting with only two chairs, lots of funky artwork, plants, great music, and down-to-earth stylists. I always feel a good energy when I’m here. The other saving grace is my wife’s calming and supportive presence that I’m continuously grateful for. I’m ready and not ready, but here we go!

12:45PM

I’m sitting in the chair watching my stylist, we’ll call them J, separate my long locks into ponytails with the intent of being able to send them to a donation service. It doesn’t take very long, and before I know it J is asking me if I’m ready to proceed. Without hesitation, I tell them to go for it and watch as the first ponytail begins to shear off. I had anticipated that this was probably going to be the moment where I would start to have big feelings of something along the lines of regret or panic. As I noticed my own face in the mirror, though, I saw a smile begin to spread across it. Nothing in that moment felt remorseful or like a mistake. As the ponytails came off one by one, even the resulting roughly chopped appearance already felt like it made more sense. After shampooing, I watched as J and their shears began to work their magic. For the first time ever, I could sense my euphoria beginning to take hold and it seemed directly proportional to watching my hair become shorter and shorter and more sculpted to my face. J and I chatted about all sorts of things, including my transition plans. There was a serendipitously lovely moment that followed me mentioning that I want to start taking T. The person in the other stylist’s chair took the opportunity to let me know that their cousin recently started taking T a few months ago and is really happy about it and doing well. This comment just added to the queer camaraderie, and I felt so fortunate that I was making this gigantic change for myself in such a supportive atmosphere. As J neared the final snips, they asked me if I wanted to run my hands through my new ‘do. It was obvious how short my hair was based on looking in the mirror, but as I reached up and let my fingers slide through, it still felt surprising and I found myself saying, “holy shit!” But it wasn’t an exclamation of shock. It felt wonderful! J clipped off a few more tufts here and there, then added in some mousse and did a quick blow dry. Afterwards, they turned back and asked my wife, “what do you think? I bet you didn’t know your wife could be so handsome!” My smile erupted and I could feel myself glowing both inside and out as I saw the new me looking back in the mirror and also saw my wife’s big smile. Then J exclaimed, “YEAH, brotha!” which just made my glow-up shine even brighter! I couldn’t have hoped for a more positive and loving experience! 

2:45PM

J gives me a big hug and a final compliment of, “you look so good!” Time to walk out into the world as a more manly me! I’m on cloud 9 as I leave the salon and can’t stop smiling. Walking out into the sunshine, I’m elated to feel the sensation of the crisp fall breeze ruffling over the top of my head coupled with my wife’s adoration. We don’t encounter anyone else as we walk back to my car, so I still don’t know what it feels like to be observed by others. That will be a new experience for another day. For now, I’m happy to bask in this feeling of lightness, happiness, and release.    

3:00PM

I’m back at home sitting at my kitchen counter and looking through the before and after photos on my phone. I tap on the selfie that I had taken just prior to leaving for my appointment. As I look at myself with the long, prideful hair that everyone was always so complimentary of, it already doesn’t look or feel like me. I witness myself coming to the place of recognition that it really wasn’t me, and this is the instant the catharsis hits. I close that photo and tap on the new selfie that I had taken right when I got home. Tears start to spill as I notice the real me looking so joyful, confident, and free. Even though it’s a cliche statement, I was seeing myself for the first time. The experience is so potent and powerful!

7:00PM 

My wife, teenage son and I are at the table eating dinner. He’s at the age where normally he’s not much for any type of conversation and instead prefers to devour his food in silence. I’m in the middle of taking a bite when I happen to glance up and notice him looking at me from across the table, which is unusual in and of itself. I see him really seeing me. He holds my gaze for a second and then lovingly declares, “this haircut suits you way better.” This moment and this day are ones I will always hold sacred. 

New experiences I’ve already enjoyed with my short hair in less than 24 hours: 

• Not being whipped in the face by the ends of my hair blowing in the wind.
• Feeling the water droplets fall from my wet hair like rain on my shoulders after stepping out of the shower.
• Wearing a hoodie and being able to sink into the coziness of the hood because it finally fits over my head.
• Rolling over in my sleep and not having my long hair get stuck under my neck and shoulders.
• The absence of a man-bun scalp ache.