The quick answer: to subvert patriarchy.

Shaving my head is a way for me to reclaim my body, to empower myself as a woman, and to express my queer identity. Of course, queerness does not always (wo)manifest itself in this way. There are easily many queer people with a heteronormative appearance for various and real reasons (femme visibility shout-out!)

There were several things that facilitated my being able to actually get up and go through with the cut: right now it is not uncommon to consider the undercut as a “fashion statement”—this trend of de-politicization of a very queer and radical physical statement—coupled with the degree of conservative spaces I have to navigate on a regular basis—allowed me the space to express myself without having to out myself. The “coming-out of the closet” idea does not go over well with me. It forces me to invite the pain of Otherness and subjects me to the approval of my oppressors (whether intentional or not). This was too much for me when I was struggling with telling my family.

I was able to muster the courage to include and engage my family with my queerness in a healthy way through my hair. Hair is not “just a style;” it is very political. Certain bodies are expected to wear their hair a certain way. The personal is always political. So, I prepped my mother for this haircut for at least two months! Almost everyday on the phone or through a text I’d remind her, “don’t forget, I’m gonna do it, I’m gonna shave the right side off.” She needed a mental prep for such a dramatic shift and I needed to bring my body closer to my queerness in order to bring myself closer to verbalizing how I felt. 

So I guess I shaved the right side off to say: I’m queer with the queers. (And FUCK WS.)