Katie Bannon knows a thing or two about shaving her head. She started because of trichotillomania, but continued because she found her sense of self-confidence. Allow her to tell her story:
Like Sinéad, I’ve been shaving my head for years. This did not start off as a fashion choice. Since the age of 8, I have struggled with a mental health condition called trichotillomania, a compulsive hair pulling disorder that affects 3% of the population. Shaving my head was a last-ditch effort to stop my behavior. I wore wigs and prayed that, eventually, my hair would grow back and my urges to pluck would subside. Few people knew about my disorder, and no one saw my shaved head. It felt like a mirror of my shame.
In my early 20s, a therapist challenged me to spend an entire day out in Boston, wigless. The night before the outing, I dry-heaved over the toilet, paralyzed by fear. Would people stare? Laugh at me? Turn away in disgust?
None of those things happened. If anything, people were friendlier toward me, as if responding to a shift in my energy. I wore a sequined aqua top and hoop earrings that sparkled in the late-afternoon sun. Each gust of wind sent tingles across my bare scalp. Strutting down the aisles of my favorite bookstore, I beamed at strangers and gushed with employees about books. Instead of feeling exposed, I felt more like myself. Checking out my reflection in storefront windows made me smile. It was like I was seeing myself for the first time.
I began wearing my shaved head out in public more and more. Going wigless changed my style. I gravitated toward bright colors, loud prints, big earrings that made noise when I walked. My personality changed, too. Without anything to hide behind, my silly, carefree attitude from childhood bubbled to the surface. I never stopped pulling out my hair, but I no longer felt the need to grow it back. Instead, I collected photos from the internet of other women rocking buzz cuts: Natalie Portman, Kristen Stewart and, of course, Sinéad O’Connor.
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Sinéad’s and my buzz cut have different origins. Hers was about rebellion; mine, desperation. And yet, over time, my buzz cut has evolved from an act of despair to one of empowerment. Shaving my head allows me more control over a compulsion that once dominated my life. Practically speaking, without the need for styling and shampooing, getting ready in the morning really does take less time — plus, I don’t have to spend money on haircare products.
More importantly, my buzz cut allows me to live on my own terms. No longer captive to restrictive beauty norms, I spend a lot less time worrying about how I look, and more time considering how to be a better friend, partner and citizen. Having an edgier look has made me bolder in general. I speak my mind, stand up for others and have better self-esteem than when I wore wigs — or even back when I had long hair. Without hair to hide behind, I feel freer, more seen.
