I Cut My Hair Short at 38 and I'm Furious It Took Me This Long to Finally Feel Like Myself
- Megan Neff
- Mar 16
- 4 min read
Updated: Jul 25
It's a Tuesday in October. I'm sitting in a salon chair, watching chunks of hair hit the floor, and I feel completely, inexplicably calm. The kind of calm where something has been sitting on your chest for so long you forgot it was there, and then someone lifts it, and your body doesn't know what to do with all that space.
I expected to feel something dramatic. I did not.
I was 38 years old. I have a wife. I have a child with that wife. I literally started an entire community for gay moms. And I had spent the better part of four decades growing my hair out, trimming it, growing it again… because somewhere in the back of my mind lived this quiet, insidious little voice that said: don't be too gay.
I need to sit with that for a second, because even typing it feels absurd.
"I'm Gay, But I'm Not That Gay"
Here's a thing I used to say. Not out loud, usually. More like an internal disclaimer I'd run before making certain choices. Buying certain clothes. Wearing certain shoes. Considering, even briefly, a certain haircut.
I'm gay, but I'm not that gay.
As if there were levels. As if gay came with a dress code, I was allowed to partially opt out of it by keeping my hair long enough to signal that I was a reasonable kind of gay. A digestible kind. The kind that makes straight people comfortable.
The Math of Perception
What's wild is that when I actually examine the fear, it wasn't even coherent. I wasn't scared my family would love me less. I wasn't scared my friends would react badly… most of them are already running the same haircut. Strangers? I live in a city. People have seen things.
I was scared of being placed.
JOIN GAY MOMS CLUB
Gay Moms Club is a welcoming online community for LGBTQ+ moms who want real connection, honest conversations, and friendships that fit into real life.
You shouldn’t have to explain your family before you can make a friend.
There's this thing that happens when you're visibly queer, especially as a woman: people stop giving you the benefit of the neutral read. They see you, and they already know something about you, and they'll decide how they feel about that before you've said a word. I spent years trying to stay in that ambiguous middle space. Not hiding, exactly. Just... not announcing.
But here's the thing I kept forgetting… I got married to a woman in front of everyone I know. I am a mom. I run a community called Gay Moms Club. I am not subtle. I was never subtle. I was just carrying around the performance of subtlety while doing absolutely nothing subtle with my actual life.
The hair was the last little flag I was refusing to wave. And the flag was for no one.
Okay, But also… It's Just Hair
I know. I can hear it. And yes, it is just hair. Plenty of queer women have long hair. Plenty of straight women have short hair. Hair is not sexuality. Hair is not identity. A pixie cut does not a lesbian make.
But for me, in my body, with my specific history of making myself smaller in very particular ways, it was also not just hair. It was the thing I kept doing because, on some level, I was still editing myself. Still running that little disclaimer. And I'm done with the disclaimer.
I have a wife. I have a kid who is watching me figure out what it means to be fully yourself in the world. I have a whole community of gay moms who I'd tell in a heartbeat to stop shrinking for people who aren't even in the room.
It felt a little overdue to take my own advice.
A Note to Everyone Still in the "Just a Trim" Era
Maybe for you it's the hair. Maybe it's something else. Maybe it’s the way you dress, how you talk about your partner at work, whether you correct people when they say, "your husband." Something so small that you've stopped noticing you're doing it.
You don't have to do it on anyone's timeline. 38 is fine. 48 is fine. You can come out, get married, start a whole club for gay moms, and still be quietly working out the last little corners of yourself.
But when you're ready, and I think you'll know, it. feels. really. good.
This is just my face.
Turns out I really like it.
Anyway, I might grow it out again. It’s just hair.
Products I’m Loving for My Short Hair Era
The Barb Shop Soft Clay Pomade
A tiny bit of this gives my hair structure and separation so the cut (by @hollyshouseofhair at Jekyll & Hyde Salon & Spa) actually shows up. The Barb Shop is a queer-owned brand designed specifically for short hair, which honestly makes it feel like it was made for this exact phase of life.
They also have some very cool hats 👇
👉 XMONDO Hair Wave Revival Mist
On mornings when my hair wakes up in twelve different directions, a couple sprays of this brings it back to life. It adds texture and movement so short hair actually looks intentional. @xmondohair is another queer-owned haircare brand, by Brad Mondo.
👉 L3VEL3 Styling Powder
While it isn’t queer-owned, this affordable styling powder only needs a light sprinkle at the roots to add lift and separation without weighing my hair down. I can shape it with my fingers and restyle it throughout the day, and it’s small enough to keep in my purse bag for a quick boost whenever my hair needs it.
JOIN GAY MOMS CLUB
Gay Moms Club is a welcoming online community for LGBTQ+ moms who want real connection, honest conversations, and friendships that fit into real life.
You shouldn’t have to explain your family before you can make a friend.
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