Hair.

When I first heard Lady Gaga's "Born This Way" album, I immediately latched on to her song "Hair". Nowadays, I'd be quicker to say that "You and I" or "The Edge of Glory" are my favorites. But it's so funny to me that I instantly absolutely loved "Hair", without registering what the title of the song represents, much less the lyrics.

For those of you who don't know (tsk tsk), in this particular song, Lady Gaga belts, "I just wanna be free, I just wanna be me" along with "I am my hair, FREE AS MY HAIR".

So as soon as I had my duh moment, as in duh you just drastically cut your hair Lara, I knew I would write a blog entry dedicated to the spirit of "Hair". I didn't know it would take me almost 5 months to write it.

Let's start with the obvious connection: my hair and all its glories. When I was a little girl, my mother generally kept my hair short. I think my favorite was in fourth grade when I had a mom cut. You know, kind of poufy on top and short all around. For a time in high school, I straightened my hair everyday and kept it in choppy layers. My hair was the longest it's ever been during freshman year of college. I straightened it so much it became pretty dry and lifeless.

Sophomore year at LMU, the Paul Mitchell beauty school came to give $5 haircuts. I decided to go for it and chopped off pigtails long enough to donate. The resulting bob was chin length and probably one of the best cuts I've ever gotten - so flattering. I have to make a confession here, I had gotten into the habit of saying that I've donated my hair three times, but I think I've only donated twice. I say I think, because I had every intention of mailing those first pigtails in, but I think they sat in my desk drawer for the better part of the year and then I had to throw them out. Sometimes I remember mailing them, but I think that's a false memory my guilty conscience created.

I really did donate, however, in my senior year at LMU. My beloved Marians chopped off the pigtails and sent them in to Locks of Love. And then again from NYC this year, when I mailed my pigtails in to Pantene.

So we come to NY, for my amazing first GSV year. When I was in high school, I remember very clearly when my classmate and friend Jennifer chopped off her hair into a very short cut. I admired her a lot. It was something I would joke about and really envision when my thick hair got on my nerves - "I wish I could just chop it off! Or go bald!" But I never followed through.

Because living in NYC as a GSV completely turned my world upside down, because I became myself every day over and over, because I began (key word, began) to ask many questions about many different things, I was itching for a change in my physical appearance that would manifest the inner intangible.

I can say and see all that quite clearly now, but back in the beginning of this year when I first started to think about cutting my hair, I just thought, I'm in NYC, no one cares what I do, might as well keep the ball rolling, this is the perfect place to finally experiment with short hair. So I did.

After that first initial cut with my dear community member Madeline, I've had my hair cut maybe 4 or 5 times, including a stint involving my whole community (with Annie in spirit) and a pair of scissors on our balcony. I've loved this short hair. I've loved being called a little Asian boy by my roommates. I've loved gelling it into a faux-hawk. I've loved shampooing it for one second as opposed to the ten minutes a full head would entail.

When I decided to do the GSV Malaysia year, I decided not to get a pixie cut (or perhaps Malaysia was just an excuse) because I didn't want to be conspicuous. Well, that turned out to be a rather silly thought because there are women here who have short hair. Duh. But surprisingly to me, after moving here to Malaysia I am quite ready for long hair again.

Maybe because most of the teenage girls I live and work with right now have long and beautiful hair. And it makes me remember what my hair is like when long. Granted it is much more thick and wavy than any of theirs, but it reminds me of how much I really do love my long hair.

Nevertheless, I think much more than being surrounded by tons of beautiful Asian hair (and it's everywhere, in the showers, on the floor), the reason I want to let my hair grow out again is more to do with my spirit/spirituality/identity.

NYC was about asking all the right questions. I think Malaysia is already about becoming confident in those questions. The questions are still there. And may always remain. But I can still be sure of myself within that.

I also see it in terms of my GSV community members, with whom I continue to be obsessed. They taught me so much about themselves, about myself, about life, about love. This year, I have already so many times thought, what would MAJAKEL do? But then also, what would I myself do in the context of MAJAKEL? And that continually makes me a better me, more of me.

With Courtney (who also cut her hair around the same time as me because she was restless and needed a change - coincidence, I think not), this year is going to be one of becoming ourselves. Not because we have been lacking, or not ourselves, but because it's like hair. We grow. And then cut a little bit. And continue growing.

Cutting my hair short was a rebellion of sorts. It was me saying, I wanna be free, I wanna be me. And I now know, with short hair or with long hair, I am me. And it's all good.