Why I Love Being Bald

You’ve been told that being bald is a big ol’ bummer.

Your hair goes, and with it, your looks, your confidence, your masculinity, even your identity. Just look at commercials for Rogaine throughout the years. Before: I was afraid to talk to anybody. I always felt like people were staring at me. I couldn’t even go out in public. After: My confidence is back. I’m dating a supermodel. I can even go in the pool! (Because if there’s one aspect of your life that really determines your quality of life, it’s whether or not you can go in the pool without feeling icky.)

It strikes a lot of us guys. Some more than others. Some of us get a wicked thrashing with the bald stick, leaving our heads resembling fleshy bowling balls, while others just get a perfunctory tapping, leaving our hairlines resembling the coastlines of Mediterranean countries. Some get smacked early in life and have to spend their entire adulthood follicularly challenged, some can stave off the beating until their twilight years.

But like all things in genetics, there is no escaping it if it comes for you. And, like a squirrel getting swept down the river, you can either fight the current or relax and see where it takes you.

Me, I leaned into the current and took my hair off at age thirty; I recognized that the troops were slowly losing ground, and after a few years going back and forth with growing it back and pretending things were going to be okay, I’ve been buzzing it weekly.

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And I love it. Here’s why:

There is no such thing as a bad hair day. For the pessimist, that’s because they’re all bad hair days, and maybe I’ll grant that. But I have suffered from cowlicks and ratty-looking bedhead for my entire life. It is glorious to have that weight lifted off my soul.

It’s distinctive. Maybe not the way it used to be — the bald thing has caught on, even for white guys, in the last decade (thanks Bruce Willis and Jason Statham) — but it’s not a common look. Much more common are the guys suffering from hairline creep and pretending they’re not, with combovers or short haircuts. Forget that. Go big or go home.

Hats in the winter. I used to hate wearing hats, no matter how cold it got outside. Why? You already know: hat hair. Problem solved!

Cool in the summer. If you live in the South like I do, you’ll do anything to survive the pressure cooker waiting outside your door. Having no hair and letting your scalp breathe is so refreshing.

The feel. There’s nothing like feeling the wind across your dome. Or your kids or your wife giving it a rub. Or rubbing it yourself. No shame in that. Just don’t go crazy with it in public, you sicko.

All of which is nice, don’t get me wrong. But it all pales next to the real reason that being bald — bald-by-choice, as my fellow head-shavers call it — is the best style choice I’ve ever made. (Temper that with the fact that I still wear Star Wars t-shirts and walk around in my universally hideous Vibram shoes.)

The real reason I love shaving my head? Taking a razor and cutting short the desperate strugglers who might otherwise have hung on at least well into my late thirties?

The give-a-fargo factor. (Which is zero.)

It’s well documented that we only have so many fargoes to give in any given day. Anything you expend effort on — mental, physical, emotional — that carries a cost. Some things are small — deciding whether to make a smoothie for breakfast, or whether to snag a sweet, sweet Chick-Fil-A biscuit — while others carry a bit more weight — whether you buckle down and get some work done or turn in your productivity card and consign yourself to an afternoon watching cat videos on YouTube and reading articles that get you good and angry about politics. Either way, big or small, the fargoes pile up and take their toll — and once you use up your daily limit, well, you end up pretty much worthless.

The best thing about shaving your head is that it costs just a couple of fargoes a week, tops.

When I had hair, it cost me a lot of fargoes. It took time to clean it in the shower. It took time to style it. It took time (and money!) to go to the barber every couple of weeks to get it cut. It stressed me out when I’d get to work and see that it was sticking up or not sitting right, or if I had to try to re-style it after putting on a hat. Are these huge expenditures? No — but like grains of sand in your crotch after a day at the beach, they add up fast and are impossible to ignore.

So I shave my head. It takes about ten minutes once a week (I’m not particularly arsed about keeping it super-short, as you can see in the above photo), and I don’t have to spend an ounce of mental or physical energy on it outside of that. No shampoo (and, by extension, I’ll never get shampoo in my eyes again!). No combs, brushes, blow-dryers. No hat anxiety. No styling. Just streamlined simplicity. Plus the benefits listed above. And a net increase in my daily fargoes, to spend on whatever I want.

Probably videos of people falling off hoverboards.

If you’re like me — losing the fight with genetics and the will to fight it — get off the fence and reach for the razor. You won’t be sorry.

And if you are, well, you know … it grows back.

(Some of it.)

 

 

 

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About Pavowski

I am a teacher, runner, father, and husband. I am an author-in-progress. I know just enough about a lot of things to get me into a lot of trouble. View all posts by Pavowski

5 responses to “Why I Love Being Bald

  • Sunny Lanning

    My forty-something sweetheart has been buzzing himself bald since he was 18. Not because of a follicle desertion of the troops, but because he had strange, springy, superfine hair that was always trying to lift into the stratosphere–and he was tall and blonde and white. I take his word for it, as I didn’t know him back then. I met him chrome-dome bald and tbought, Whew that’s sexy. And I still think bald is way sexy, much sexier than, say, the George Costanza hold-out. Cheers!

    Liked by 1 person

  • Eric

    I suddenly went bald 20 years ago, in my early 50s. But for me It was a dream come true. I absolutely love male pattern baldness! All my life my secret wish was to go bald, but I didn’t dare admit it openly for fear everyone would think I was crazy. At first I panicked, afraid my wife might disown me, but to my delight, she was thrilled (she thinks bald men are sexy) and begged me to just let myself go bald. Lucky for us in less than two years I lost all my hair on top of my head, leaving just the fringe on the sides and back. I ended up Norwood 6 bald. I thoroughly enjoyed watching my hairline rapidly recede, a bald spot develop on top/in back and finally, the remaining hair ‘bridge’ on top thin out and disappear. It was your typical male pattern baldness sequence, only very quick. So quick, in fact it shocked me, as I had no idea someone could go bald so fast. But I couldn’t have been more pleased, as I couldn’t go bald fast enough.
    My wife loves to kiss me on top of my bald head. What a turn on! No comb-over for me, no hair transplants, no Rogaine, no hair piece. Male pattern baldness is a gift, not a disability or disease in need of a cure. And I refuse to shave away the rest of my hair. I keep the side fringe neatly trimmed. I love the male pattern bald look. But I don’t love sunburn or freezing the top of my head, so I wear a hat when I’m out in the weather.
    Bottom line: going bald was one of the best things that ever happened to me. If only it had happened back in my late 20s, immediately after my wife and I got married. Hair on top of my head? Who needs it! Good riddance!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Pavowski

      Your enthusiasm is maybe a little bit more than mine but okay, you know what, I like it!

      Like

      • Eric

        I would be a lot less enthusiastic about being bald if my wife hated it. But I would still love it. She and I have been married nearly 50 years and she means the world to me. I couldn’t imagine life without that wonderful woman.
        Last evening she caught me looking into a mirror and smiling. If I happen to see my reflection in a mirror and notice my bald head, I can’t help but smile. I think it’s my best feature. She said “It’s obvious to me how much you love being bald and I’m glad you do, because I love it as much as you do.” Every now and then she reminds me how much she loves it by kissing me on top of my bald head. What a turn on! She also has many other ways of showing me how much she loves ALL of me, not just my silly bald head. My wife is my life.

        Liked by 1 person

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