Confessions of a former sensitive ponytail guy

One of our family stories was "Me and the Goats." One time my mother brought my older brother and I to the petting zoo. My brother as he was wont to do escaped my mother's grasp and ran off. She told me to stay put and chased after him. Minutes later with child in tow, she came back to where I should have been and couldn't see anything but a big flock of goats. Then from the center of the flock she heard a little kid's (ha!) voice, "Hey you! Stop that! That's my hair." My mother waded into the goats using her purse like some sort of feminine martial arts weapon and rescued her youngest. After hearing this story growing up it's no surprise that from a relatively young age, I wanted to grow my hair out.

My parents were not supportive of the idea of me with long hair and whenever it would finally grow long enough to be unruly, I would get sent to the barber and get shorn. So during my freshman year college I grew it out. It got long enough that my bangs covered my eyes, a new record. One day a friend of mine said that he was going to shave his head. Disbelievingly, I said "If you get your head shaved, I'll get my shaved." The night before the head shaving, I met K at the campus bar. We ended up going back to her dorm - and getting sexiled into the hall. We talked while she played with my hair. The next day she called and asked if I wanted to go hang out with her. "Sure, " I replied. "I just need to get my head shaved. 3:00 OK?" "Okay, I'll see you later." She was a bit surprised when I showed up bald. I think that my high school friend who I escorted to her was a bit more surprised when I showed up looking like a recruiting poster marine. Or as she said, "Your head looks like the tip of a giant uncircumsized penis."

Bout with the world of baldness aside, I grew my hair out again - this time into a skater cut. A skater cut is something like a reverse mullet - long on top, short on the sides. It got long enough that I could draw it back into a short ponytail. I liked the hairstyle because it was relatively low maintenance and I could enlist anyone with a steady enough hand to cut my hair. And talk about low maintenance. The sides and back washed like short hair and didn't need to get combed. The top drew into a ponytail and only needed a quick comb and a ponytail holder to look presentable. But when the corporate world beckoned, I got a "normal hair cut."

At some point when I was dating my wife, I said that I wanted to grow my hair out again. She said that if it made me happy I should do it. But no skater cut this time. And so I grew my hair out again. It got to shoulder length by my wedding and was to the tip of my shoulder blades when my first child was born. But I wasn't real happy with it and decided that I would get it cut some day. Then I was going to donate it to Lock of Love some day. When my wife's hair stylist said that she'd cut it for free, some day became Thursday. First she did the big chop (well over 10 inches). Then at my request she styled it into a mullet for a picture for one of my friends who has an unnatural affinity for mullets. And then she cleaned it up into my current hair style.

Reactions to post-chop have generally been favorable. My mother was overjoyed and my brothers are no longer ashamed of me. The people at work think that it makes me look younger (Great! I was already the baby of the group. And people if you want to say that I look younger 21 is a compliment. 18 isn't quite so much.) My friends think I look better. And my high school friends didn't realize that there was a difference because I look like I did then (or at least how I did back then bloated).

How do I feel? Meh. At some point I'll grow it back out. But for now it'll do.