282. Should I Get Bangs?

Nora recently found herself standing in her bathroom, looking at herself in the mirror, holding a pair of scissors above her forehead. She asked herself a question she’s asked herself many times before: should I cut bangs? And if so…is this a cry for help?

A version of this essay appeared in Nora’s newsletter. 

Transcripts may not appear in their final version and are subject to change.

I’m Nora McInerny and it’s going to be okay.  We’re here every weekday to put a little bit of okay in your day so that you can start or end or just endure your day with the opposite of a doomscroll.  I am, um,  caught always in a cycle. It is the life cycle of the common white woman and it has two distinct phases through which all of us must pass.

Two phases  in which one finds herself.  With neither rhyme nor reason, two phases through which she will pass ceaselessly until the day she dies. At any given point,  she is either  growing her bangs out  or  thinking about getting bangs.  I am,  after Nora. A year of growing them out in this latter category.  I sent this message to my sister in law.

I want bangs again. A cry for help.  I want bangs again. Parentheses. A cry for help.  She replied, do not cut bangs right before summer unless you’ve weighed the pros and cons since last summer.  I’d recommend you get another tattoo than cut bangs right before summer descends onto Arizona.  That said, I stood in front of my bathroom mirror last night for a long time snipping at my own hair. 

Each of those was a separate text, Claire, so maybe do like dings, dings. 

So there I am, once again, in that phase, thinking about getting bangs as the temperatures here in Phoenix, Arizona leap past 90, past 100.  As I sink further into the delusion that my hair, thin, fine, will be magically transformed into the thick and luscious mane of Zooey Deschanel as soon as I clip the thinnest parts A bit shorter. 

I find myself perusing through old photos where the bangs were in fact bangin as though I am still 2, or 12, or 27, as though I was not constantly living in a state of monitoring the length or greasiness of my bangs, as though having bangs made me a Manic Pixie Dream Girl and not a Lord Farquaad lookalike, if you haven’t seen Shrek, that will not make sense to you. 

But here’s the okay thing.  The okay thing is that  it’s not about the bangs.  It’s not about the bangs.  And the minute I posted, should I get bangs, the minute I reached out to any woman in my life, she knew exactly what I was talking about. She knew this feeling. She knows that it is a  scratchless itch.  That I personally feel regularly, mostly when my life begins to slip into any momentary stasis, because when you have lived in fight or flight on and off for like 14 years, it’s hard not to get seasick when the boat stops rocking. 

I used to call it Restless Life Syndrome. This sudden urge to move to the woods or a farm, quit my job, blow up my life in some way just to feel the earth moving under my feet.  And bangs, for me, are a mini itch for that mega. scratch, a mini scratch for that mega itch.  It is a way of saying,  I’m not who I was.

I’m different. Look at how different I am. I got bangs.  And that’s obviously what I’ve been talking about in therapy. Don’t worry. Um,  and I’ve done things. I’ve done other little scratches. I got chickens when I realized that one of our kids is graduating college and the other is leaving for college in a few months,  but bangs or no bangs, big move or no move, chickens or not chickens. 

our lives change us just as much as we change our lives. 

And the okayest thing about all of this, to me,  is that when you think that you should get bangs,  that is when  you are never alone.  That is when you are joining some strange,  uh,  I need a better,  um, no, okay, we’re gonna cut that part. 

So just when I started to forget that. Google Photos did this thing that it does all the time. It  showed me a picture of myself with Lord Farquaad bangs. We’re going to have to put this on our Instagram account. And then me at a different point in time with no bangs.  And it said, same or different person. 

I meant to click a choice so that I can get better at facial recognition and become one of our robot overlords and the choices were same. different or not sure.  I’m not sure.  I’m not sure. Is that, am I the same person when I have bangs?  The correct answer is yes, but also the correct answer is  no. These are different people.

And also the correct answer is I’m not sure. I’m not sure.  But the point is it’s not about the bangs. It’s not about the bangs.  It’s about the sisterhood  of wondering if you should get them  and reminding each other that the answer might not be yes.  And also knowing in your heart,  you’re gonna do it anyway.