Approaching the Undercut

Phase 1: Project Runway

Dear First Husband (DFH) and I are engrossed in watching past seasons of Project Runway, one of a handful of activities we both find entertaining. As captivating as Christian Siriano’s hairstyle was in season 4, I can’t get my mind off Anya Ayoung-Chee’s disconnected undercut in season 9.

And neither can DFH. After we finish season 9, I give him a haircut that approaches the glory of Anya’s undercut. Because spouses can’t have the same haircut at the same time and because a disconnected undercut isn’t very wife-like and because having fun is for other people, I stick with my shoulder length hair.

Phase 2: Practice

I no longer have a spouse, I no longer am a wife. Having fun and trying new things is an essential counterbalance to working through the dark foreign familiar. I am loathe to add another change to the already daunting heap, but my mind is still stuck on the undercut. So I practice, making a deep part and pinning the shoulder length hair back.

It’s different, it’s safe, it’s underwhelming. It’s a step.

Phase 3: Sweaty Palms

I’ve moved out from my parents’ house, I’ve made a new home with Sister K, and my birth name is back in business. I am ready to make a change that I’m unconditionally excited about and chose on my own, a change that’s immediate and unmistakable, a change that will evoke a predictably positive response.

I am too antsy to make an appointment and too unsettled to do it myself, so I hand my hair clippers to Sister S and she takes the first buzzing pass.

Two months after this photo is taken, my parents announce they are moving to Japan. Selling their house, divesting their possessions, don’t-know-when-we’ll-be-back-again moving to Japan. I let the dust settle around that announcement for several months, shaving my hair short and shorter.

One morning before work, I’m ready again. I undercut one side. Several weeks later, I undercut the other. And #hobbyhair begins.

Those short sides and long top? They are products of coping with chaos. Approaching and achieving the disconnected undercut allowed me to:

• Rewrite narratives about who I am and what I am worth.
• Reclaim pieces of the past.
• Restore balance.

Here’s my new narrative: I am a person who has fun with my hair, who has enough confidence in my actions to let them speak more loudly than my appearance, who gets a kick out of turning heads.

I could have tried to reclaim a piece of the past by watching a season of Project Runway by myself or with a friend. But my gut told me that would miss the point. So I reclaimed the undercut from Project Runway that I had laid at DFH’s feet, convinced as I had been that an undercut does not become a wife, that he was the fun one.

I lost balance that way, sidling closer and closer to a character constructed from assumed expectations. The hair clippers nudged me back, side by shorn side.