When I joined this club, my life changed
This is how you can become a member too
“Did you know him?” Beth asked as we half-jogged towards the start line of the Sheffield 10K on a muggy Sunday morning.
A friendly looking man had just walked past in the opposite direction knowingly looking at me.
“I don’t think so, but I think he thought he knew me.”
And, in a way, he does.
The man was bald.
Well, maybe not quite bald, but at least closely shaved, like me.
I first shaved my head around June 2022
I became tired of elaborate combovers and then paying a gregarious barber £22 every six weeks to apply various forms of fades to what felt like an already penetrated Maginot line. So, with clippers that I already had from lockdown, I went at it myself…and loved it.
And so did everyone else who knew me (or at least they said they did, which meant it never became a complex or sore spot). Like, my head’s alright!
What taking it all off could do for you
I think shaving it close (and then without a guard as I do these days) did two things outside of my social circles and one thing to my experience.
First, I think the skinhead scared off single straight women.
I matched with fewer straight women on dating apps when my bonce was shaved. It didn’t matter that I had a masters, a good income, a nice flat or was clearly on good terms with my family (and dogs), demonstrated through a selection of smart, smiley and candid photos both solo and with friends, all I heard and read on social media was “where have all the good guys gone?”.
But more queer women said “ey up” and, whether it’s a Sheffield thing or a bald thing, I then was only dating openly bi or bi-curious girls.
Moving into the fitness space, training and teaching multiple times a day and crafting the “coach” image, the shaved head was clean, it was sharp, it worked. Like, amazingly so: despite being new to the gym, I was talking to people and attracting clients from all walks of life – Muslim, Christian, Hindu, Buddhist, a sixth former, students and one OAP, disabled, obese, athletic, gay, lesbian, bi, queer and sometimes even completely uninterested in talking to anyone but me and their cat – in a way that slightly hairier me might only have dreamed of.
Now, I can’t guarantee you those same results: to be trusted by so many people with sometimes the most private details you can imagine is a huge privilege, and one I’ll never take for granted.
But I’ve not even come onto the largest pan-social demographic yet that I also have privileged access to, whom you don’t realise are a network, a community, right there under some of your upturned noses: the baldies themselves.
That’s right.
The moment I went skinhead was the moment I made friends in every gym and city the country over.
You know, there’s not a day goes by when a voluntarily or involuntarily short or no-haired person doesn’t smile at me, nod or even say hello.
We’re everywhere.
And you know, no matter the weather or how I’m feeling, I’m instigating or reciprocating.
And I love the buzz people get when they have supportive people around them when they go all in. Whether due to chemo, or to pattern baldness, or just to shake things up, there’s something so attractive about a person who can throw off or come to own previous insecurity; hey, I’m not going back to having a headful any time soon, and part of me wishes I’d done it sooner.
If you’re a straight person looking for straight love, sure, that little hair island might convince someone you’re fertile enough to swipe right on.
But if you’re actually looking for appreciation and connection, I think you’ll find pretty swiftly that there’s an ocean of people waiting to acknowledge you in the street or maybe respect and even love you non-heteronormatively, all just a clipper away.
So, no, while the man that passed us may not have known me personally, yes, part of him likely did know me and might have felt understood.
And if the thought of going bald is still too scary for you, you could always become a biker: they indiscriminately nod too (and wave with hands and feet if you catch them in a good mood)!
F&T podcast
Forget six packs as a measure of wellness, over this way, the Fitness & Thinking podcast centres on six pillars and you can now catch us audio-only on Apple Podcasts on Wednesday evenings and in surround-sound technicolour on Spotify or YouTube on Thursday mornings.
We’re into the second week of an incredible run of women in coaching, cooking and academic spaces; if you’ve not subscribed on your preferred platform yet, get on it! And please do leave a like, comment and/or review, it helps our algorithmic overlords (and me!) know that F&T is up to something good.
Ask me anything
Fingers crossed, at the end of this week, I’ll have the first 20 episodes of F&T recorded. In episode 21, I’ll run through some of the big learnings and moments we’ve had since episode 12 and I’d love to tackle some of your thoughts and questions too: send me a message on fitnessandthinking@gmail.com to join the chat!
I hope the September sun’s still with you, and I’ll speak to you soon.
Much love
J x