I’ve always liked letting my facial hair grow out; I’ve never liked shaving, frankly. But for the longest time in my life, I didn’t have the opportunity to let my beard grow out. Before my mission (1995-1997), I could have let it grow out but just didn’t. On the mission, you have to be clean-shaven. After my mission, while living in Utah, I could have let it grow out, but I was gearing up for BYU, and I didn’t really want to mess with their stupid beard rule. Then I worked as a tour bus driver in Alaska. Now if there’s one place you can look all grizzly, it is Alaska, but my boss didn’t let me grow it out because, according to her, if you didn’t have a beard before coming up to work for her, you couldn’t grow it out (of course, a couple of older gentlemen working for her happened to have shaved their beards off over the summer, and she let them grow theirs back, but I digress).
Finally, I had the opportunity, while working at Brown University, a very liberal place, where really I could dress and look how I wanted. I loved it. Finally I grew the beard out. And it looked great. I looked more mature and refined, but also more grizzly because I didn’t trim it that often. Anyways, I loved having the beard, and had it throughout most of my courtship of Jaime.
Jaime convinced me to switch to the goatee. Great move. The goatee looked awesome. I kept the goatee for a long time, until I got called as the Executive Secretary in our ward. I was asked to shave it. Sad day. I began again to shave, and resented it greatly. In fact earlier this year, I would only shave once a week, Sunday morning, so I was clean-shaven for church!
So I finally said, whatever, and let the beard grow out this past month. I was excited. At last I was going to do what I wanted and let my beard grow out. The hair came out nicely, not too itchy. But after the three to four weeks of growth, I found that I was annoyed by the beard, the itching every now and then, and the hair being on the face. I found that I didn’t really want to feel the hair as I rubbed my chin. Jaime had also complained about the prickly nature of the first month of the growth (she didn’t really want me to grow out the beard). I’m also looking for new jobs back in the New York City area, and in thinking about how to present myself to interviews, I kept thinking it was better to be clean-shaven. All those factors have convinced me this evening to shave the beard off, completely. No goatee. No beard. Just a clean baby-face. 🙂
Ugh, back to shaving every day. 😦