Yesterday I climbed Mount Jumbo on Douglas Island with a group of seven other Project girls. On the way up, Kiley asked me if my head was hot. Of course I was warm from the exercise, and my dreads were all stuffed up into my big beanie to keep them dry and off my neck, but I didn't realize how hot my head was until she asked this. After a few minutes I said, you know, I should just cut them off right now. Kiley's response: Dude, how
epic would it be if we cut your dreads on the top of a
mountain?!
Well, the top of the mountain was cold and extremely humid (we were quite literally in a cloud), and by the time we got up there everyone had pretty much forgotten about that conversation anyway. But I had been thinking about it the whole way up.
Why did I originally get dreads? The style is awesome, and I wanted to be unique and fun.
What did my dreads teach me? A lot; mainly how I can be totally comfortable with my individuality and not be afraid to express it. Because of the attention I got from them, I was able to start conversations with strangers that I never would have had the confidence to have before. It opened a lot of doors to the people that wouldn't otherwise be willing to talk to me--a young, white, suburban chick. I liked making people question stereotypes (I'm not a rebel, liberal, vegetarian, hippie, or pothead) which made people have to work to get to know the real me. Also, dreads were just really cool and fun.
Why did I still have dreads? Because people like them. Because I got attention from them. Because they made me look unique and that made me feel good about myself.
Frankly, that reason wasn't enough. Meanwhile, I had been missing normal hair a lot lately (and trying to make up for it by playing with all the other women's hair) and I had sort of lost my passion for dreadlocks. I used to be thrilled to talk about them all the time, but it had started to become a chore when I had to answer the same questions over and over and when that's all strangers wanted to know about me.
Besides, what I had to learn from them had, officially, been learned. I
do have confidence when talking to people, I
do have a pretty good grasp on who I am as an individual, etc.
I have been thinking a lot lately about all the focus I put on myself, in my own mind and around other people. I relish attention (in certain situations--not in front of a large group of people, oh no..) and feel like I am constantly turning conversations toward myself. I love answering questions but forget to ask them. And having dreadlocks totally encourages that! As you may have found by reading
my post on femininity, I find that it's helpful to accompany spiritual change with physical change. So...
I wrestled with these thoughts all the way up and part of the way back down the mountain, and had a few conversations about it along the way. I realized that the only thing holding me back from making the decision to cut my hair was actually making a decision, like someone who "gets" the Gospel but isn't ready to make the decision to follow Christ or accept him because they are afraid of the major life changes that will accompany it.
So, I decided.
Last night around midnight, a bunch of people gathered in the lodge to help cut my dreads. As much as the goal of this haircut was to minimize making a spectacle of myself, I knew that this would be a big deal to people and I would have to be the center of attention for just a little while simply by making the change.
I have to say: it felt incredible to run my hands over my head (which felt super small), and to scratch my scalp with no limitations. We never used the clippers one of the gentleman brought, so I still have a little bit of length on my head (probably about an inch). It was gross, though, how greasy my hands got just from playing with my hair, because I hadn't washed it in a week for the dreads' sake. Oh well. After we cut them off, I
did wash my hair and Lauren trimmed me up to get it to look somewhat even.
As cool as my hair feels now, though, I look in the mirror and think I look like a boy. I guess that's what I was expecting. When I expressed this, an overwhelming number of people told me
no, I'm beautiful, I look like a model, I totally pull off short hair, it looks so much better and more feminine than the dreads, my facial features pop more, and someone even said that now my face doesn't have to compete with my dreads anymore. It was a great to have that confidence boost from Godly women during a brief time of uncertainty.
My hope is that out of this experience I will become a more others-centered, Spirit-filled person. I will regain some sense of anonymity so that my life can be pointed toward Christ, not myself. Having dreads was good while they lasted, but in the end, all they did was yell "Look at me!" and that needed to end.
One more thing: I actually thought about all this in May when I was home from school, but made the decision to keep them at the time because I felt strongly that I would regret it and miss my dreads. I'm so glad I waited, because doing it when surrounded by a huge community of people that loved me was such a better alternative to cutting them myself, alone in my bathroom.
Although I essentially made the decision in a single day, the Lord has been working on my heart in this for a while, and it was time for the change to be made. I do not regret it at all.
My roommate, Lexi gets the first one!
Sara has at it!
Kiley's prediction at the beginning of the summer came true!
Melissa gets one! (I'm not paying any attention, haha)
Lauren's turn, finally!
Go Chelsea go!
Kelly gets a dread!
Paul is serious about cutting dreads.
The pile is growing.
Annaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!! (Running out of caption ideas...)
Cameron gets a go!
Elizabeth tackles the back!
Nasty short hair from the side
SO MUCH HAIR
Wild!
After I washed my hair and Lauren trimmed it. I have much dislike for the little bangs, so I've been pushing my hair back since this picture.
A few more pics I've taken with my phone for people that have wanted to "see my head":
Tada! Okay, now you know. Let's talk about you. Or Jesus.
God bless.
