No more
Letting go: why I cut my hair (a really long post) (x-posted on MySpace)
I know a lot of my friends are seeking an explanation for why I cut my hair, especially given the circumstances surrounding my decision to grown it out; this is part of an explanation of both the reasons I decided to grow it out and the reasons I decided to cut it. I've included major headings so that people who know part of the background don't have to read it all.
My hair as a reflection of my life
My hair has always been a reflection of my life circumstances. As a child, my parents were completely in control of my hair. They decided when I got it done, where I got it done, and how i got it done. After the first big separation from my parents cutting off all my hair symbolized severing their emotional and physical control over me.
Moving away from where I grew up and the people I grew up with meant becoming familiar with new places and new friends. I used this as an opportunity to create a new personality. The new Kathryn was out as a lesbian, confident and charming. The new me wasn't insecure, didn't hurt, and didn't care about anything, and would turn anything too serious into a joke. At 17 this was apparently very attractive to women and I dated all but one of ALL of the women I've ever dated, during this period, in a series of relationships that lasted a few weeks or months.
The suicide death of my friend Josh and death during childbirth of one of the first people I met at Agnes Scott along with turbulence in my new home brought my high crashing down. I became depressed and a loner; I didn't trust myself or anyone else. I regretted a lot about my past. This was my infamous "bitch" period. Those of you who know me will know that "bitch" was the common general impression of me in all aspects of my life. Josh's death inspired my will to live; I realized that being alone was not helping me out of my depression. I reached out to a group of friends who would become my support network during the death of my brother.
Why I grew it out
Four days before my birthday in October of 2004 my older half-brother Bernard was found hanging from a tree in the yard of his friends. His death, originally ruled a suicide by local investigators, was ultimately ruled inconclusive by the Georgia Bureau of Investigation. A series of inconsistencies in the stories of people who were present that night and the known circumstances and manner of his death led to an unwillingness to simply accept that he had hung himself.
In November of that year, his death was no closer to being solved leaving me on the fence about how I felt about his death. Problems in my group of friends left me isolated. I took comfort in the mini-fro on my head; I had done research on the significance of hair to groups that wore dreadlocks. I took my hair on as a project in November of 2004; I would not cut it until his death was solved. I started locking my hair when it was three inches long, in February of 2005.
Why I cut it off
The political.There was a certain point where I began to think that my brother's death would never be solved; that the only people who had information would never speak about what really happened that night. Holding on to my hair became holding on to my uncertainty about his death, seeking an answer that may never come. Cutting my hair did not mean that I don't care about the outcome; it means that I have accepted that his case may never be solved.
The personal. On my LiveJournal, I am subsribed to a word of the day. I don't read my friends page that often anymore (I find myself wasting more time on MySpace). When I checked them today, these were the two most recent:
imbroglio..im-BROHL-yoh.., noun:
1. A complicated and embarrassing state of things.
2. A confused or complicated disagreement or misunderstanding.
3. An intricate, complicated plot, as of a drama or work of fiction.
4. A confused mass; a tangle.
quandary..KWAHN-duh-ree; -dree.., noun:
A state of difficulty, perplexity, doubt, or uncertainty.
These two words, in all their different meanings, describe perfectly my life and what is going on in it right now. I am at the end of a succession of major transitions. I am remaking myself (again) and I want a clean start. A drastic change to my physical appearance will hopefully make a change in my personality easier. Letting go of my hair is letting go of so much more.
I know a lot of my friends are seeking an explanation for why I cut my hair, especially given the circumstances surrounding my decision to grown it out; this is part of an explanation of both the reasons I decided to grow it out and the reasons I decided to cut it. I've included major headings so that people who know part of the background don't have to read it all.
My hair as a reflection of my life
My hair has always been a reflection of my life circumstances. As a child, my parents were completely in control of my hair. They decided when I got it done, where I got it done, and how i got it done. After the first big separation from my parents cutting off all my hair symbolized severing their emotional and physical control over me.
Moving away from where I grew up and the people I grew up with meant becoming familiar with new places and new friends. I used this as an opportunity to create a new personality. The new Kathryn was out as a lesbian, confident and charming. The new me wasn't insecure, didn't hurt, and didn't care about anything, and would turn anything too serious into a joke. At 17 this was apparently very attractive to women and I dated all but one of ALL of the women I've ever dated, during this period, in a series of relationships that lasted a few weeks or months.
The suicide death of my friend Josh and death during childbirth of one of the first people I met at Agnes Scott along with turbulence in my new home brought my high crashing down. I became depressed and a loner; I didn't trust myself or anyone else. I regretted a lot about my past. This was my infamous "bitch" period. Those of you who know me will know that "bitch" was the common general impression of me in all aspects of my life. Josh's death inspired my will to live; I realized that being alone was not helping me out of my depression. I reached out to a group of friends who would become my support network during the death of my brother.
Why I grew it out
Four days before my birthday in October of 2004 my older half-brother Bernard was found hanging from a tree in the yard of his friends. His death, originally ruled a suicide by local investigators, was ultimately ruled inconclusive by the Georgia Bureau of Investigation. A series of inconsistencies in the stories of people who were present that night and the known circumstances and manner of his death led to an unwillingness to simply accept that he had hung himself.
In November of that year, his death was no closer to being solved leaving me on the fence about how I felt about his death. Problems in my group of friends left me isolated. I took comfort in the mini-fro on my head; I had done research on the significance of hair to groups that wore dreadlocks. I took my hair on as a project in November of 2004; I would not cut it until his death was solved. I started locking my hair when it was three inches long, in February of 2005.
Why I cut it off
The political.There was a certain point where I began to think that my brother's death would never be solved; that the only people who had information would never speak about what really happened that night. Holding on to my hair became holding on to my uncertainty about his death, seeking an answer that may never come. Cutting my hair did not mean that I don't care about the outcome; it means that I have accepted that his case may never be solved.
The personal. On my LiveJournal, I am subsribed to a word of the day. I don't read my friends page that often anymore (I find myself wasting more time on MySpace). When I checked them today, these were the two most recent:
imbroglio..im-BROHL-yoh.., noun:
1. A complicated and embarrassing state of things.
2. A confused or complicated disagreement or misunderstanding.
3. An intricate, complicated plot, as of a drama or work of fiction.
4. A confused mass; a tangle.
quandary..KWAHN-duh-ree; -dree.., noun:
A state of difficulty, perplexity, doubt, or uncertainty.
These two words, in all their different meanings, describe perfectly my life and what is going on in it right now. I am at the end of a succession of major transitions. I am remaking myself (again) and I want a clean start. A drastic change to my physical appearance will hopefully make a change in my personality easier. Letting go of my hair is letting go of so much more.