It's Only Eight Inches

That's me on the left - baby sister still has better hair.

When I was in kindergarten, one day I came home crying and asked my mom to cut my hair, because I was tired of one of the boys in my class pulling my pigtails. She talked me into keeping my long, then-blonde wavy hair and it grew and grew until I was 13. One day I decided to cut it from waist length to shoulder length in one shot, and from that day forward, my hair grew in curly ringlets (once I got through the unfortunate 80s mullet phase into my college years).   I can remember to this day the sight of large chunks of hair falling to the floor, and that moment of near-panic.

On the rowing team in college, it was well known that I was a head banger who listened to music like Megadeth, Metallica, and all of the fantastically androgynous "hair bands" of the late 80s. I was given the nickname "Megadeth", or "Mega" for short, and it stuck with me through all four years of rowing.  In my sophomore year, I was deemed "Smallest Hair" in a tongue-in-cheek awards ceremony.  My hair never really got to be manageable until I was out of college a few years and my sister introduced me to both Ouidad salons and gel.  (And then I got bangs, which was a ridiculous idea for someone who doesn't like high-maintenance hair - curly hair and bangs don't mix.)

When I was pregnant with my son, I let my hair grow for almost a year.  It was crazy long by the time he was three months old, and I decided to do something radical and donate it.  When I sat in the chair that day, I handed them a ruler, telling them to cut at least eight inches for Pantene's Beautiful Lengths program.  The stylist pulled my hair into a ponytail, braided it, and chewed through the rope slowly with a pair of scissors.

I decided this year to donate one more time, while my hair is uncolored and healthy (they can't accept dyed hair, because it takes about six ponytails to make a wig, and trying to color match them is impossible if the hair is already saturated), and while I can still pull off the long-hair look.   My son and I traveled to Chicago to visit friends and family, and set up an appointment with Fox Hair in the North Central area.  Minutes after I walked in the door - snip snip! - nine inches were gone. It's always hard to get used to the new cut, but Facebook helps with that - plenty of sweet compliments and affirmations that I made the right move made me feel good about it.

Donating hair is rewarding and satisfying; plus it forces me to make a change and enjoy a new hairstyle.  It's a leap of faith (especially with a new stylist each time).  When I see people on the street with very long hair, I want to hand them a card for Locks of Love or Pantene Beautiful Lengths and say, "Hey, have you considered..." but it's not my place.  Instead, I did it to help one person and I did it for myself.  I do this in honor of my friends who have survived cancer, and for my cousin Elmer, who succumbed to melanoma a few years ago. I pray I'll never need a wig, but if I do, at least I know I did a tiny bit to help the cause.

Ever thought about donating?  Here are a few organizations best known for hair donation:
Wigs for Kids
St. Baldrick's
Locks of Love
Pantene Beautiful Lengths


Much love to Lynda, Daisy, Kristin, Monica, and Russell, my amazing survivor friends, and to my Vander Hey cousins!