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Someday I'll do it again... by dreamer

I had a very traumatic haircut when I was very young and it shaped my entire life. It was 1980 and I had a long dark blonde mullet and the sides were pretty long too. It was ugly but I loved having long hair. One day my dad took me to a barber shop that wasn't my normal. I don't remember exactly what he said to the barber but suddenly he started cutting shorter and shorter. I remember the scissors closing in - crunch, crunch, crunch - on my mullet. Halfway through the cut I realized what was happening - I had been tricked - and I sat there in disbelief. When the cut was done, I had a regular boy's cut, no clippers, but no length either. I was hysterical and it took a day or two to recover. What would the kids at school say? Would family members tease me?

I kept my hair that length for all of junior and senior high, sometimes going a few months between cuts, always going back to the same length, always dreading going to the local discount salon. I always fantasized of getting a really short cut, especially as flat tops and bowl cuts made their way, but I always worried about what people would think. I kept it long.

One day in college I was getting my hair cut and I asked the stylist to go a little shorter. She used clippers to cut #4 on the sides. I was obsessed. I started planning how I could go shorter and shorter. I'd go shorter on the sides (even as short as a #1) but the clippers never touched the top of my head. I wanted it short... shorter... even shorter...

The summer after graduation I took a job on a ranch in Utah and I wouldn't see anyone I knew for two months. This was my chance. My fear in going shorter was always that I was embarrassed for those "you got a haircut" moments but I had a few days between arriving and meeting my new bosses. I dreamed for months about how short I was going to take it. #1 all over? #2? #4 on top #2 on the sides? I dreamed about it for months and even went to the library to dig through Utah newspapers looking for ads for barbershops in the area.

I settled on a #2 all over. Finally the big day came. I drove to where I thought the barbershop was, and... it wasn't there! Nooo! I started looking all over town for a barbershop but couldn't find one. Hot and dejected, I drove off, when suddenly a barber shop appeared. I went in. Sat down. Here we go... I asked for a 2 all over and tapered in the back. He said, "That's shorter than mine!" I said, "I know. I do it every summer." Yeah, I lied. Anyways, he clipped the top first and wow. I looked like a clown. Then, he started clipping the back and sides and I realized I was getting a much shorter haircut than I intended. I asked what guard he used on the sides and he replied, "You asked for a taper so I faded it down to a 0." Wow. I fet exactly how I did when I was ten... tricked. And the top looked a lot shorter too, closer to a 1 or a 1.5. I paid up, left, and stared. I looked like I belonged in the military. I was terrified of being seen by anyone I knew. And I couldn't stop rubbing it. It was the greatest feeling ever. I loved that haircut.

Years have passed and I'm lucky to still have a full head of hair. My hair grew back after that summer and I just want to buzz it off again, but that same fear... what will people say? Someday, I'll do it. I'll get that fade again. Or maybe shorter. Someday. Someday...

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