A Hairy Subject

Welcome, all, to my blog. This is my first attempt at blogging, so please don't laugh. It may not be the best idea to post something so long the first day, but I'm going to do it anyway. Lots of people have asked me why I cut my hair, but I don't think any of them have gotten a complete answer yet. It's a complicated issue, but here goes nothing. To start the explanation, take a look at an essay I recently wrote for LAR:

Striving For Imperfection
It seems that almost everyone is quoting Napoleon Dynamite lately, even people who don’t especially like the movie. “Hey, Napoleon, give me some of your tots,” is now heard in cafeterias across the country on tater tot day. Even my own mother can now recognize such quotes as, “Tina, you fat lard, come eat your dinner,” and “go make yourself a dang quesadilla.” She recognizes them because I introduced her and my father to Napoleon Dynamite during Easter break. Watching the movie again with my parents made me see it in ways I hadn’t before.
My mother watched the opening credits with a bemused smile on her face. I watched her throughout the movie as she took in the weird randomness of Napoleon and his friends. Some parts of the movie brought the bemused smile back to her face and other parts brought on the raised eyebrow of confusion and incredulity. The scene with the chickens was one that brought out the smile—it was familiar to her, as she grew up on a farm herself. And according to her memories of farm life, chickens do have large talons. A scene worthy of both the smile and the eyebrow was the dance. My mother made the astute observation that, though the brown suit Napoleon wore to the dance was obviously intended to make him appear even dorkier, it actually looked good on him. In fact, it looked better than anything else he wore in the entire movie. Personally, I would have to agree.
After the movie my mother made a comment that caught me off guard. She said that she admired Napoleon because he isn’t afraid to be himself. That made me stop to think, and I realized that I admire him too. Oddly enough, I actually want to be like Napoleon. That’s why I cut my hair. Perhaps I should clarify what I mean. Watching the movie did not make me decide to cut my hair; watching the movie with my mom helped me understand better why I cut my hair.
I have always been a perfectionist. I do not like to do something unless I am sure that I will succeed. At least, I don’t want others to see me try if I fear that I might fail. These are fairly common feelings, but most people seem to overcome them. Even as a musician I don’t like for my sound to stand out, lest I should be found to be playing my part wrong. As a result of my fear, I almost never allow myself to perform to the best of my ability. I feel much more safe playing simple music or hiding my sound within a group.
I hate hiding behind that façade of “perfection.” I feel like I’m living someone else’s life instead of my own. Like every decision I make is based on what others think I should do instead of what I think I should do. Instead of asking myself what Kim would like to do, I ask what the perfect girl would do. I worry whether my reputation will be ruined if I don’t do an extra credit assignment or get a less than perfect score on a test or paper. I know some people think that I never fail; they’ve told me as much. This perceived perfection is a hard standard to live up to. In fact, it is an unattainable goal.
How does this relate to my hair? Quite simply, my hair was a crutch. It’s not the only thing I hid behind, but it is the one thing that I can change most easily. My long hair could be beautiful when the rest of me wasn’t. I used it to distract from my imperfections, physical and otherwise. But this charade could not last forever.
Napoleon Dynamite is certainly not perfect either. The admirable thing about him is that he doesn’t try to hide his imperfections. He doesn’t fit in, so he finds friends who appreciate him for who he is. One of Napoleon’s memorable phrases is, “Whatever I feel like doing—gosh!” He lives his life for himself, not for the expectations of anyone else. At the end of the movie the entire school recognizes this great aspect of Napoleon as they give him a standing ovation for his unique dance moves. If Napoleon can be respected for who he is, then surely I can be respected for who I am.
Like its main character, the film itself is imperfect. And I’m not talking about the lack of a discernable plot. The entire movie is shot with the camera on auto focus, which my friend who is a media studies major complains about to no end. But again, the makers of Napoleon Dynamite never pretended that their movie was anything more than what it is: a low-budget project that never expected to be popular. And it is because of this humility that the movie has soared to such popularity. Words of praise for Napoleon Dynamite travel by word of mouth rather than an extensive advertising campaign.
So what does all of this mean for me and my hair? Most of my attitudes and habits concerning perfection will take time to change and I will be dealing with them for the rest of my life. But my hair is easy to change. Within the first five minutes at the salon, in fact, my hair was already shorn to the point of no return. My hair is now my personal testimony and reminder. Like Napoleon, I don’t always need to do what others think I should. I don’t need to look the way they think I should. And I don’t need to keep my long hair just because other people like it. All I need to do is live the life that works for Kim. So what am I going to do today? Whatever I feel like doing. Gosh!

So that's one side of it(The essay is done now, in case anyone was confused). Some of you may not understand my other reason, but I'll tell you anyway. God has been working on me lately, teaching me things. He's been showing me that I need to learn to give up the things that are preventing me from following his plan for my life. Not all of these things are bad, but they are in the way nonetheless. And since I'm rather stubborn and fearful, he had to start by asking me to give up something rather trivial. I've always liked my hair, even when it was anoying. I'd been thinking for quite some time that I would like to donate my hair to Locks of Love, but I could never bring myself to actually do it. Then God made something very clear to me. It was as if he were saying, "Just let go. You can trust me. How am I ever going to use you to do something bigger if you won't give up this one small thing for me?" That really struck home. I want God to use me, no matter what that entails. So I did it, and God has blessed me for it. Not only will a child get a wig, I like my new haircut. i have wash-and-go hair again!

One last thought: Now that I've done this, what will God ask of me next?