7 Surprising Side Effects of Shaving My Head

When I decided to shave my head to raise funds to buy PPE for NHS staff, I expected nothing except some teasing and to feel too nervous to check the mirror for a while. What I did not expect were the following:

1. Extra Available Cash

During my first shower after the shave I realised that it was going to be much quicker than usual, having no hair to wash, condition, and comb through, thereby saving on electricity and water; the shampoo would last for a year; and who needed conditioner any more? Not me. Furthermore, my hairdryer is gathering dust, saving more electricity. 

The Hub fully supported my naked bonce, not least because a passing thought/joke to frighten him took on a life of its own:

TB: If we’re going to be in lockdown, I think I’ll shave my head.

Hub: If that’s the case, then you should do it for charity.

TB: … …

TB: … …

TB: …um, I’ll think about it…

Hub: [To himself] Tee hee hee. I am and always will be the Master Prankster here.

2. Confidence

I expected to feel like a fool: I knew that this was never going to be my best look but I was prepared to endure it for a good cause. I suspected people might think I was a right-wing thug, or I’d had a really bad case of nits.

But there was something about letting go of my inhibitions enough to cut off my not-so-crowning glory that sheered off my vanity at the same time. It helped that I have the long-time love of a good man (when he’s not calling my bluff) and the knowledge that I would be mostly indoors for three months, but still…hair is an important part of identity, and dramatically changing that identity changes us.

I once had a genuine identity crisis when I learned I was two inches taller than I had believed myself to be for thirty-one years, because how I saw myself had fundamentally changed, even though outwardly, nothing had changed. This time, however, the outward had changed, and I didn’t care that it was unflattering: it freed me of the burden of pretending that I can fight off the ravages of childbearing and chocolate, and I JUST DIDN’T CARE. 

3. No More Menopause Shower Hair

Nobody told me before I started the change that my hair was going to fall out from time to time. I spent many months secretly irritated with Alex because he left so much hair in the drain – secretly, because he was only home between semesters and I wanted him to want to return home every time and fulminating glances across the bannister would have been counterproductive. Then he moved out for good and the hair was still there and then I read a list of menopause symptoms which included hair loss.

Well! If you’ve never seen an indignant menopausal woman before, I assume you’re still alive. WHY did nobody ever mention this to me before?

Anyway, first shower after The Shave, I bent down to *shudder alert* pull out the disgusting gunk…and there was none!

I was tempted to keep my head blank for this reason alone.

4. People Think I’m Brave

Thank you, but I’m not. I’m simply not brave, at all.

Brave is going to work knowing you could become infected and die, but you are a key worker and people rely on you.

Brave is accepting that you cannot attend your child’s funeral because you have to protect your other children.

So thank you, everyone, for your kind thoughts, but brave is not having a severe haircut in your kitchen, no matter how unattractive it looks.

5. Blogging

This was the biggest surprise of all. As you know, I hadn’t blogged in over a year, but I naturally thought of my blog to publicise the fundraising for Masks For NHS Heroes. Then I had to write a post with the video of the shave. But then, however, during that shower – I do my best work in showers – I thought of this post about the unexpected aftermath of having a disrobed skull. Then I left it in the draft folder for six months because I was dealing with other health issues, but here I am, three weeks and three posts back into blogging, and in danger of making it a habit.

In jammies, dressing gown, and very warm hat.

6. A Texture Fetish

Not naughty in any way, just the constant need to rub a hand over my naked head – for comfort, I guess. The first day, I rubbed because it felt so strange. The next day, because it had already grown a tiny bit, enough to feel like I was rubbing velvet. Then there was the contrast of cold, smooth hands on a lumpy scalp; the velcro action when I pulled off a woolly hat after my walk (it feels like there’s some truth to the notion that heat escapes through the top of the head, because for a while there I had to don a hat or scarf outdoors and in).

7. Addition

I realised when I numbered the headings that I actually have only six surprising side effects, not seven.

Samson lost his strength; I lost the ability to math.

As Promised

Thank you to everyone who donated to Masks For NHS Heroes (there’s still time).

As promised, here’s my new haircut:

It’s Been A While…

I could grovel; or I could explain that I’ve been battling health issues for over a year, which is why this blog has been dormant. With all that’s happening in the world right now, I think I’ll just wave a nonchalant hand in the air and move on.

I will tell you this, though: in the last sixteen months the NHS saved my life and the sight in my right eye, and has dealt with sundry other issues – all for free. Trapped in the house (Hub and I are on a 12-week lockdown because we are both at risk, especially the Hub), I’m frustrated that I can’t help.

So here’s my offer: if ten people reading this make a donation to Masks For NHS Heroes, the Hub will shave me completely bald, and I’ll post the video here.

I know you are all battling for PPE in your own countries, so I’m aiming this at British readers.

Stay safe and well, lovelies, and I’ll see you on the other side x

Donate Your Hair To Children With Cancer

If you have long hair like mine was, and decide to cut it, you can send it off to a charity in the UK called Little Princess.  They make wigs for children who have lost their hair through cancer.  A quick Google search found similar charities in other countries.  Please think about doing it if you’re going short; you need a minimum of 7″/17cm and all it costs is a padded envelope and postage.

My hair was long but thin, so my plait was pretty feeble; but every little helps.

When the Hub posted it off, the clerk asked if there was anything valuable in the packet.  The Hub explained what was in it and she winked and said, Aw, that’s nice.  Are you going to do the same with your beard?

I think he should; I heard their office needs re-wiring.

I Like Not That

Image by debaird™ via Flickr

Some news items that caught my eye:

A father gave his child the name ‘Like’.  

Even though – get this – ‘he actually has fewer than 120 friends on Facebook and doesn’t really care for the social networking site.’

Well that’s alright then, as long as he doesn’t want to profit from it or get his name in the media…oh, oh, wait a minute…

It’s not as if he has the excuse of being famous; we all know how stupid that makes a parent at baby-naming time: Fifi Trixiebelle, Peaches Honeyblossom, Pixie, anyone?  What were you thinking, Mr Geldof?

Maybe I’m not such a bad mother after all: ‘Tory Boy’ and ‘Spud Bud’ have a nice ring to them in comparison, don’t they?

Over in Michigan – which I have always considered to be a sensible State – a woman sold a two-year-old child on eBay. 

It appears she did it to ‘see how eBay works.’  Wouldn’t a used DVD have sufficed?  I’ve often wanted to give my children away but it never occurred to me to make a profit from them.

In case you’re worried but too lazy to click on the link, the child was removed from the woman’s care and ‘is in her mother’s custody.’ 

I must confess I’m still worried: why wasn’t she with her mother in the first place?  When I said I’ve often wanted to give my children away, what I meant was, over my dead body, rigor mortised hands clenched round their pudgy little wrists and a ‘Noooooo’ scream etched on my blue yet still attractive face.

Have sex to save the rainforests

It’s a thing, apparently.  An article in the Metro discusses ‘Eco-porn organisation F*** For Forest,’ an ‘erotic, non-profit group.’  They have 1300 members.

There is going to be a ball of some sort, at which ‘a small space where people can be exhibitionists’ will be provided.

I got this last bit from Wikipedia but you’ll have to find the link yourself because this is a family blog: In their first six months of existence the group received seed funding from the government of Norway.

You couldn’t make it up.

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Tell Your Story

I want to share the Aviva Tell Your Story campaign with you:

Tell Us Your Story is giving people the opportunity to recognise and reward others who have made a positive impact on their lives or in their community over the past year. Entries are submitted online at http://www.avivatellusyourstory.co.uk/

Launched by Aviva, for every entry they will donate £1 to the Street to School Programme – a global initiative with the aim of reaching 500,000 children worldwide, helping them get off the streets and back into education.

A weekly prize of £1000 will also be awarded to the local hero that captures the hearts of visitors to the site and receives the most votes.  One overall winner will be chosen by a celebrity judging panel for a prize worth £10,000.

Please think about sharing your story.

Further Information:
About Street to School:
Railway Children is the UK charity partner for the Street to School programme.
Railway Children is the only charity working across the UK with vulnerable children.
Every year in the UK, 100,000 children run away because they’re unwanted, unloved or abused and many are never reported missing.