From Hair to Everywhere

"I just wanna be myself/ And I want you to love me for who I am,

I just wanna be myself/ And I want you to know, I am my Hair." -- Lady Gaga

In case you were wondering, Lady Gaga themed posts won’t necessarily be a regular feature on this blog.  However, her latest release, Born This Way, continues to inspire me.  The music is great and the lyrics thought-provoking.

When I first heard the track quoted above, aptly called “Hair,” I instantly thought of my own.  My hair kind of symbolizes my quest for identity, my search for a better sense of who I am.  This has been an issue for me since early childhood.

I remember sitting on the toilet in my mom’s bathroom, trying desperately not to move (which isn’t so easy when you’re 7 or 8) so the hot curling iron wouldn’t burn my ear.  I had almost white-blond, shoulder-length hair as a child, and my mom loved to curl the ends under.  Needless to say, I wasn’t so crazy about this.

"Mama T" through the years

In an experimental girly phase that hit in roughly 8^th grade, I decided to grow my hair out.  Then, when I started high school, I thought I wanted a perm. I admired my best friend’s spirally blond curls. Her hair always looked perfect to me and mine was boring by comparison. So I went for it.

Staring in the mirror in disbelief, I fought back tears. I hated it. I couldn’t really react while still in the stylist’s chair. I put on a happy face and followed my mom out to the car. We went to the nearby mall to get fast food to take home for dinner.  I waited in the car. As soon as my mom began walking away, I cried my eyes out.

What was I thinking?  My “curls” weren’t spiral shaped, they were kinky and small, and this poofy new ‘do extended halfway down my back. I reminded myself of a poodle. Worse yet, I was in the middle of freshman band camp, getting to know new people, starting to carve out my high school identity – and this was the kind of impression I was going to make??

Horrors.

But I couldn’t let my mom in on the extent of my disappointment because she loved it. She was beside herself with excitement (at least, it seemed that way to me) and who could blame her?  Her tomboy now looked super girly. Oh, the joy.

My only option was to wash it earlier than the stylist recommended….but that didn’t help.  Two whole years later, it finally relaxed enough that I could deal. When I was a senior in high school, I cut it to shoulder length.  I was so happy!  But deep down, it wasn’t enough…I wanted a short, more masculine cut that I didn’t dare to get. I let my own fears get in the way of doing something that would be truer to who I felt I was on the inside.

“And in the morning/ I’m short of my identity … I scream Mom and Dad/ Why can’t I be who I wanna be?”

By the time I was about 24, I got up the guts to do it. Finally – freedom!!  It took some getting used to, but I liked it and, amazingly, so did my relatives!  Over the next year, though, it got shorter and shorter, more texturized and spiky.  I could tell the fam wasn’t so crazy about this.  Then, my Grandma said something in her lovely Southern drawl that I’ll never forget:

“Court, why’d you cut your hair so short?  Everyone’s gonna know what you are.”

What, a girl with short hair?  Of course they will!  … But you know and I know that’s not what she meant.

I should explain that my Grandma is about 84 years old now.  She’s a petite, proper and kind Southern lady.  She’s feisty and wonderful and loving and I’m her first grandchild.  We have always had a special bond and, despite whatever her own views may be, she has always been my ardent, unconditional supporter.

"Mama T" and her Grandma

But, she’s still of a generation whose members dressed up to go grocery shopping, who behaved with decorum in public …. who weren’t gay, or at least, not openly so. I understand this. Sometimes I’m not crazy about the things she says, but I allow her more leeway than anyone else in this world because that’s just the way she is and I absolutely adore her.  She’s also one of only a tiny handful of people that I allow to call me “Court.”

It’s not like there aren’t gay people in the South. I grew up there and didn’t know any, but that doesn’t mean they’re not there.  We just don’t talk about such things, you see. And a girl with a haircut like mine probably seems like a walking queer advertisement down there.

But it’s more than that – this is me. I am my hair. It’s part of how I choose to express myself. It’s part of my self-concept…not too feminine but not too masculine either. Androgynous. This just works for me. And after 24 years of trying to please other people, I decided to do this for myself.  I’m never going back.

Cape Cod vacation, June 2010

“Don’t wanna change, and I don’t wanna be ashamed/ I’m the spirit of my hair, it’s all the glory that I bare.”

Given all this, my own reaction surprised me when Kelsey wanted to color her hair purple in 8^th grade. This was not my call to make, but I thought it might be just a tad extreme.  Heidi’s philosophy was that if this was how Kelsey wanted to express herself, she should be able to do it and we were going to support her.  After all, some kids go to much greater (and far worse) lengths to express themselves, and this was pretty harmless.

Kelsey and her Purple Hair

That changed my viewpoint. When I paused and thought back on how I had felt as a teenager, I was glad Kelsey didn’t wait as long to make a change that she wanted to make.  And I had to admit that the purple hair was cute.

Speaking of hair, Anna has amazing hair. I can’t wait to see how she might want to express herself through hairstyles when she gets older!  It was so hard to cut her little ‘fro the first time, but we had to because it’s impossible to get such a small kid to sit still long enough to apply product and comb through all of that lovely, curly hair.  When she’s old enough to handle that, it will be fun to experiment with her hair if she wants to do that.

Anna's beautiful hair, summer 2009

It will also be nice for her to know she can be who she wants to be and express herself accordingly.  When our appearance outside corresponds to our self-image inside, we’re truly being ourselves. And, regardless of one’s hairstyle, that is beautiful.

“I’ve had enough, enough, enough/ And this is my prayer, I swear/ I’m as free as my hair.”

 [Editor's Note: Here is "Hair," by Lady Gaga on YouTube - Audio Only]