The Five Stages Of Awkward Hair Grief

Be afraid. Be very afraid, because once again, I am bored with my hair.

I am so bored that when a nice girl at the salon suggested I try a Mohawk, I actually considered it for about .04 seconds.

How bored do you have to be to want an incredibly high-maintenance, attention-drawing haircut that’s really only appropriate for punks and people trying to make a statement about the post-punk lifestyle?

You have to be really bored.

But don’t worry. I didn’t actually get a Mohawk. I didn’t even have the hairdressers dye the whole thing blue, which actually looked good on me for the month I kept it that way in college. Then it began to fade, as did the novelty of telling small children I had eaten a Smurf, so I switched to auburn.

The problem with constantly being bored with your hair is that you keep changing it, which means you spend an awful lot of time in that indeterminate state where you don’t really have any kind of coherent haircut or style.

If I were trying to make a statement about my hair that would probably bother me a lot. But the only statement I want to make with my hair is “Hey, I have hair! You don’t have to look at my giant lumpy noggin!”

Unfortunately, you will have to look at my weird haircuts, because I have a hard time finding giant lumpy hats. And I will be going through the five stages of awkward hair grief:

  • Denial. My hair doesn’t really look like that, does it? Nah. It looks fine, it’s just the weird lighting and tachyon particles hitting the mirror, like on Star Trek.
  • Anger. Why in the name of all that is hairy did I get bangs? What was I thinking? I look like Justin Bieber on crack! Someone must pay for this!
  • Bargaining. Let me just hold on long enough to get it trimmed this month. I’ll do anything for a few more inches, or just to get that weird cowlick to stop sticking straight up. It’s only a matter of time ‘til it grows out enough to be a real haircut, right? Right?
  • Depression. I’ll just stay inside. Or wear a hat. For the rest of my life. I can’t go on with this terrible hair! What’s the point?
  • Acceptance. It’s going to be okay. Hey, it could be worse. I could be completely bald, and then I wouldn’t have any problems with my hair at all.

… hey, anybody got a razor and some shaving cream?

6 Responses

  1. I feel your pain and I do believe you correctly captured the five stages of awkward hair grief! I must say though – I never considered a mohawk – not even for .04 seconds. There was that time when I was seriously considering a spiky pixie though which was equally indicative of internal hair struggles. 😉

  2. I’m balding. The one advantage is that, options are really eliminated. I mean, I could go nuts and start combing over and stuff. But basically, my only really options are “very short” and “all cut off.” I’m going with very short for now.

    1. Believe me, you don’t want a combover! People find it difficult to respect someone with a combover.

      All cut off can look pretty good. My grandfather used to have his head shaved at the barber’s, nearly right down to the nubbins, and I remember him looking pretty darn cool. It’s a daring look. (Plus, then you can wash your head with soap, which saves on shampoo.)

  3. I used to get tired of my hair, too. Now I have the best hairdo ever, and it took me 45 years to get this far. I have wash-and-wear hair — no hairdryer, no curling iron, no brush, no comb. It’s a short spiky ‘do that merely requires a trim every six weeks, and a little bit of mousse or pomade to tame the cowlick. (I also color it, but I’m considering going grey sometime soon.)

    1. I have exactly one grey hair. It’s right in the front. And it’s kind of awkward.

      It’s the only one of its kind, so I’d feel bad pulling it out.

      Plus, it’s kind of pretty and shiny.

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