On Motherhood, Domestic Abuse, and Shaving My Hair Off
By Alissa Inamorati
This is hard.
I’ve always loved my hair. It was voluminous with no tangles and natural highlights. There are three specific reasons why I finally shaved my head:
I’ve always wanted to
Motherhood
The most empowering reason: I was breaking free from a toxic, abusive relationship that oppressed me.
If anyone ever talked to me about my hair, they would know that I wanted to shave it off. I received comments like don't you dare; no, you'll look so bad! or but I love your hair. Their obsession with my hair just made me want to shave it more, alarmed by the value people seemed to place on it’s length.
I’ve always been highly confident--cocky, maybe--and have never had a problem with the way I looked, while at the same time not desiring to be noticed. It’s a bit silly when you have a shaved head that screams for people's eyes to look at it. I refused to conform to people’s expectations of beauty, and I wanted to step out of my own comfort bubble, so I knew I’d shave it someday.
Eventually, I found myself in an abusive relationship, and the accumulated stress made my hair begin to fall out. I was completely under this person's control, and I later became pregnant with him after trying to break it off several times. The pressure was excruciating. He moved in with me at my parents home after I was well into my third trimester and he didn't allow me to leave the house without him, he refused to go out with me to exercise, he would corner me, stand over me, grab me, and rape me daily.
His mother told me to get an abortion.
My hair was thinning out.
My dear baby was born a trooper, and in the first couple of months of her life, God gave me the energy and patience I needed to care for her even in the midst of domestic abuse. Showers were now scarce and short, and what was left of my hair was constantly being pulled, even if it was in a ponytail. With every other abuse, having my hair ripped out, and nursing, it was too much energy to maintain my hair. So, without his permission, I shaved it off.
He was disgusted with me and never touched me again, and I thank God for that. I felt slightly human again, and felt strong enough to make more choices. The second most important choice I made after cutting my hair was to have him leave. I’d realized what my baby would internalize if I stayed with this person, and it’s not something I wanted. I have my hair to thank—or the lack thereof—for this liberation.
Now, having short hair, my confidence has skyrocketed, my facial features pop, I'm not tied to expectations, and upkeep is minimal.
I am me with any hair length, but this length signifies strength, motherhood, and most importantly, freedom.
Alissa Inamorati is an avid hiker and climber—taking her daughter and dog on all of her adventures. She’s passionate about coaching and helping youth grow their skill set and confidence. She’s also currently working on getting her paralegal certificate (and I’m so excited to see her keep thriving).