Skip to main content

On Womanhood & Shaving My Head



I think women hide behind hair. We have been taught that our hair is our crown. I think that's part of the reason why I began cutting my hair when I was 12, and why I recently went bald. I never quite believed that my hair was my crown. I never believed that my hair length or style determined my femininity (or the lack thereof). I never believed that wearing jewelry made me more of a woman. I never believed that makeup and overdrawn eyebrows determined my beauty. Since cutting my hair off, some people have made it their job to remind me to wear earrings so that I "look more like a 'lady'" or to make sure my makeup is on point at ALL times, as if those things define me, my beauty, and/or my womanhood.

I never cared much for the opinions of others and I can be a bit crass and nonchalant when it comes to displaying my lack of affection for another's opinion of me. Because I'm a performer, I've been living for other people (onstage) my entire life. I've been painting my face for the spectators since my first dance recital at 3 years old. So, if I decide walk out of my apartment with my BALD head AND with NO makeup or earrings on, trust that I am more than comfortable with my beauty, my womanhood, my sexuality, my spirituality, and how others may perceive those aspects of me.

I learned at a young age that my hair had nothing to do with my crown, that the two are not synonymous, and that my royalty is more connected to my soul, and not the hair follicles sprouting out of the desert that is my scalp.

Come to think of it, even as a young girl, some people who 'loved' me would always say and do things to try to manipulate my budding womanhood. "Maybe you should wear perfume now that you're a woman." "You need eyeliner." "You should wear more feminine hairstyles for basketball games so you won't look like a dike." In retrospect, it's comical; but I grew accustomed to the disrespect--the trashing of MY womanhood which didn't look like anyone else's. Shaving my head has brought me back to those moments, but I'm wiser now. I feel the earth more vigorously, now. In losing my "crown," I gained the most in-depth self-love that I have ever known. That's true victory; I am still royalty. I am still woman. I am ever-evolving, hair and all, and I am to be continued.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

"Where Do You See Yourself in 5 Years?"

Today (December 1st, 2020), Facebook reminded me that 5 years ago, I wrapped up a 5-week run of Ain't Misbehavin' at Portland Center Stage in Oregon, and flew back to New York City to re-enter my life there. I had just applied to seminary a few days before Thanksgiving and was excited about the possibility of leaning into this strong calling I felt to deepen my theological knowledge. I was still under the illusion that I'd be able to maintain some sort of performance career, so I kept my manager, Greg, and he'd continue sending me out on auditions. I was becoming very picky about what I'd say "yes" to-- Would I go on that national tour of Hamilton that he wanted to send me on or would I go to seminary? Would I leave to do a 9-month stint in After Midnight on an international cruise ship or would I go to seminary?  That was the question over and over again. I decided that I'd still do local stuff in NYC or short stints in other cities. Even as I ente...

Why I Quit Church...

On Sunday I quit church... for the day, at least. It was the most beautiful and painfully passionate act of self-care I've ever done.   Hi. My name is Mia, and I live with an anxiety disorder.  It's 4:30 on Sunday morning. My first alarm intrudes on the three hours of sleep I've managed to acquire. I begrudgingly assess the state of my vocal cords and decide whether or not they are well enough for me to sleep another thirty minutes. I hit snooze. Minutes later, my second alarm assaults my rem cycle. I pimp-slap my iPhone and decide whether or not I'm going to steam (a process in which I stand over a pot of boiling water for fifteen minutes to lubricate my cords). I, instead, opt for the less time consuming process of making tea, buying me an extra fifteen minutes of sleep. at 5:15, my third and final alarm goes off. I roll out of bed and into the shower. As I lather, I do minor vocal warm-ups and meditate. It's 6:05. I'm clothed, tea is made, hair is done,...

A Call to Slowdown

On March 30, 2017, I wrote a caption under a picture I posted of me preaching my very first public sermon in James Chapel at Union Theological Seminary in the City of New York. The sermon was entitled, “I Have an Issue of Blood.” To my surprise, at the end of my moment of sermonic exploration – what was originally supposed to be a spoken word piece but quickly grew into something beyond my wildest imagination – I got a standing ovation. It was… odd . I thought to myself, “Why are these people standing and clapping for me? I’m not a preacher.” Folks came up to me after to convey their appreciation for the message. Someone in the congregation shared a picture they took of me. I posted it on Instagram and Facebook the next day with the caption: “I sometimes feel like there's a person running ahead of me—the person that God is calling me to be—and I'm running behind her trying to catch up as she runs faster and faster. And I don't know where's she's going but I know i...