Why I Got Pixied

It would seem that having children triggers an impulse in me to make drastic changes to my appearance.

After I had the twins, I went out and got my nose pierced. Which seemed rather daring for my conservative, Southern Baptist roots. Plus, I got it done at a tattoo parlor by a guy named Rebellious Tony, so I was really living on the wild side.

Last week, I chopped off all my hair. Which I can only assume had something to do with the fact that I recently gave birth to child. This particular child likes to pull my hair, which may have also had something to do with it.

There is something about a women chopping off her hair that gets noticed (positively and negatively). In both adaptations of the movie Sabrina (1954 with Audrey Hepburn and 1995 with Julia Ormond), the leading lady goes from frumpy, lonely recluse to confident, sought-after love interest (with a killer sense of style) after she crops her tresses short. 

Okay fine, she also spent a bunch of months in Paris finding herself, but WHATEVER.

Obviously that's Hollywood's version, but personally, I have noticed a confidence boost since I cut my hair short. It helps that my husband loves my new do. Another bonus is that the cut is so fast and simple to style that I always feel pulled together. And since it could be considered rather "boyish" for a women to have short hair, I find myself putting a little more thought into my clothes, accessories, and make-up, which always makes me feel less like a frazzled mom.

Still, the over-achieving pleaser that I am (thanks a lot birth order) feels like I need to give an explanation as to why I got rid of my long locks. Weird assumptions are made when a women cuts her hair short. Something inside of me is yelling, "People are going to think you're having an emotional crisis! Or you've given up on looking pretty! Or you're questioning your sexual orientation! Or you're going to turn into a punk rocker! You have to explain yourself to The People!!"

New Hair Me is like: "(Shrug) Whatever man, I look great and I'd toss my hair at you if I had any, but I don't need that long-locks nonsense anymore."

Still Stunned I Actually Went Through With It Me is like: "Maybe you need to explain to yourself (and The People) why you did this so when you look in the mirror next week and dissolve into a puddle of tears, you can remind yourself of your reasoning."

So here it is folks: 6 Reasons I Got Pixied:

#1. I've wanted to have a pixie cut since high school, and I've been too afraid to try. I decided recently that I need to show more bravery in my life, so this was a good place to start.

#2. Another something I've wanted to do since high school was donate my hair. My little sisters also wanted to make a donation, and since all three of us had crazy long hair, the timing seemed right. Plus, it made a great excuse for some fun, sissy memory-making!

(We donated to Beautiful Lengths, which provides free wigs to women fighting cancer)

#3. When I hesitantly mentioned to The Hubs that I wanted to donate ten inches of my hair, his response was, "Cool! But, if you're going to cut off that much, do something fun. Don't just come back with a bob." I figured I'd better jump on that ship while it was sailin'. (Also, my stylist friend said I could pull off a pixie and that she'd cut it for me, so that sealed the deal.)

#4. I've got three tiny kids, man. 'Nuff said. I need something fast and easy that still makes me feel pretty. (Because I also live in a house with all boys and I need to have some pretty in my life amongst the dirt and farts and booger-eating.)

(The Hubs does not eat his boogers... just to be clear... that disgusting habit belongs to my three-year-olds.) 

#5. Maybe I just I needed a Big Change that I was in control of. After the rapid-fire of big life changes that I've experienced in the last couple of years (job changes, new baby, new house, lots of moving), I just needed the next drastic alteration to my life to be one that I chose for myself.


#6. I was just plain ready for something different. I actually really liked my long hair (except when I didn't... which was more often than I did). But I was tired of having to put a lot of effort into it to make it look nice and I was sick of the greasy mom ponytail (or even my fourth-day, greasy bun). I was tired of greeting my husband at the end of the day looking like a mess, or trying to find the time to not look like a mess before he got home. I was tired of The Same.

(This is what fourth-day hair looks like now, and I'm lovin' it.)

What about you? Do you need to be braver, or get rid of some of The Same in your life? If you could make one big change, what would it be? What is keeping you from going through with it?