Shaving My Head

I can hardly remember why and exactly when I first shaved my head. Now, it just seems so natural and ordinary. Now, many of the people I know have never knew me without a shaved head. But here and there, I am reminded that society doesn't know what to do with an Asian American woman with a shaved head.

If you're a white woman with a shaved head... you must be lesbian.
If you're a black woman with a shaved head... you must be going back to your African roots and culture.
If you're an Asian American woman with a shaved head... you must be Buddhist or just plain weird.

Sometimes when strangers ask me why I shave my head, I play it off that it's less hassle, less hair product consumerism, and something that both Jeff and I like. But the real reason was because I think I get a kick out of being different and also it makes me feel closer to the LGBT communities. Like, I need/want this physical identity marker.

Recently, Ma advised me to start growing my hair out in prep for my Vietnam trip. She said people with shaved heads are either Buddhist or mourning a loss of a loved one. She was worried how they would see me. I said, "Maybe I'd take a scarf or two. But, I'm not growing it out." I hate that in between stage. I think I look more like a boy then, than ever. If I'm going to gender bend, I'll do it in the way I feel good and comfortable.

Usually, Jeff cuts my hair. I stand in the bathroom almost naked and he methodically takes the clippers without a guard and goes line by line on my head. It feels good. I think we both like the intimacy. Then, I hop in the shower to wash off the little hairs.

Lately, I've shaved it myself. I can do it pretty well I think. It's nothing like the movie G.I. Jane... especially if you have really long hair.