Torn
I'm torn about what to do with my hair. I know I'm not unique among women when I say this. Women very often don't know what to do with their hair. Of course, for me it's not about color or really all that much about style. It's not about growing it out either. That ceased to be an option my senior year of college when I ended the 'let's grow it out and see' experiment that began my senior year of high school. Four years of longer (I hesitate to say 'LONG') hair were plenty to convince me that my mother was right when I was six. That's when she got tired of me whining about tangles and what seemed to be interminable hair washing sessions. One thirty minute appointment later, where I'm sure I squirmed mercilessly, I had short hair.
With the exception of the four year experiment (that went horribly wrong in my book, including but not limited to the perms my mom signed me up for to keep my blah thick hair from just hanging there), I've enjoyed a near lifetime of short hair. I know a lot of people assume that I'm like a lot of lesbians who cut their hair off within weeks of coming out. I have evidence to the contrary. Just ask my mom for my school pictures from second grade on. And no, I wasn't out when I was six.
So what's creating my current confusion? I'm really not sure. Part of me wants cute hair and part of me wants to shave it off. I have to say I get more compliments when my head is shaved than when I spend big bucks on a real haircut. Most of these comments come from women who say they don't have the courage to have such short hair or from women with long hair who lack the 'face' for short hair. It's not for everyone, short hair. Extreme facial features, either good or bad, don't mix with a lack of hair. I'm not saying I'm prettier than anyone; I simply have a better face for short hair.
Therefore, long is off the table. Completely. Without question. Hell, I don't even like it as 'long' as it is right now. And by no means would anyone other than me consider it long. Long begins when bed-head begins, which is to say about three weeks after I shave it. The essence here is laziness and my inclination to hit snooze one more time than I should, thus making a shower impossible if I want to eat breakfast. Which I do. Every morning. So to sum it up, I prefer super short hair because it allows me to sleep longer and still eat breakfast before I leave for work.
But then I get to thinking about how crazy that is. Some women take the better part of an hour doing their hair in the morning and I'm concerned about nine minutes one way or the other, including a shower? To keep my sanity, I remind myself that I've never had to take much more than a few minutes to get ready in the morning. Of course, I can still wet my head to catch stragglers, brush it, and look halfway decent, but sometimes I want to look better than halfway decent. I don't know. I guess sometimes I want to look like I didn't just wet down my bed-head and jump in the car.
Shaving my head back in '08 ruined me where this is concerned. A shaved head means next to no hair and absolutely no bed head. This makes mornings quick and ensures that my hair always looks the same no matter what. Straight out of bed, windy day, or just about anything else the world can throw at me. It's perfect really.
Unless you want cute hair. Which I kind of do. Compliments aside, a shaved head doesn't draw the best attention. Sure, there was less confusion in the women's restroom for whatever reason I've never been able to explain, but otherwise to most people I'm just another butch lesbian with a shaved head. Where's the fun in that? It's not what I am and not what I want to be.
Of course even if I get cute hair, it'll still be short and I'll still get confused for a butch lesbian. I guess what it all comes down to is my frustration at being errantly catagorized, pigeon-holed, and tossed aside. That's Austin for you. Well, it's probably a lot of places, just not a lot of places I think I'd like to live. Chalk one up for the good people of Texarkana, USA. For all they were or weren't, they saw me for who I was. Love me or hate me, they sure didn't ignore me. Maybe I'm simply adjusting to being a little fish in a really big pond, but I can't say I like it. I truly believe I'm a small town person, ie. I prefer to be a unique fish in a small, homogenous pond.
There's no changing me at this late date. It's either going to be cute hair (and less sleep) or a shaved head (and more sleep). I hate to spend the money on cute hair only to shave it off in a fit of bed-head fueled frustration. Crap. All these words and I'm still no closer to making a decision. Luckily tomorrow is my late day and I get to sleep in. I'll have time to eat breakfast, workout, and shower before work. No bed head tomorrow means my hair will probably survive another day and my internal debate will continue. Next week I'll be on vacation, away from my clippers, and able to sleep as late as I want everyday. If my hair survives that long, the ugly concern will assuredly supercede the bed-head concern and I'll be forced to make a decision. Until that point, I'll keep the bed-head at bay the best I can and endure.
With the exception of the four year experiment (that went horribly wrong in my book, including but not limited to the perms my mom signed me up for to keep my blah thick hair from just hanging there), I've enjoyed a near lifetime of short hair. I know a lot of people assume that I'm like a lot of lesbians who cut their hair off within weeks of coming out. I have evidence to the contrary. Just ask my mom for my school pictures from second grade on. And no, I wasn't out when I was six.
So what's creating my current confusion? I'm really not sure. Part of me wants cute hair and part of me wants to shave it off. I have to say I get more compliments when my head is shaved than when I spend big bucks on a real haircut. Most of these comments come from women who say they don't have the courage to have such short hair or from women with long hair who lack the 'face' for short hair. It's not for everyone, short hair. Extreme facial features, either good or bad, don't mix with a lack of hair. I'm not saying I'm prettier than anyone; I simply have a better face for short hair.
Therefore, long is off the table. Completely. Without question. Hell, I don't even like it as 'long' as it is right now. And by no means would anyone other than me consider it long. Long begins when bed-head begins, which is to say about three weeks after I shave it. The essence here is laziness and my inclination to hit snooze one more time than I should, thus making a shower impossible if I want to eat breakfast. Which I do. Every morning. So to sum it up, I prefer super short hair because it allows me to sleep longer and still eat breakfast before I leave for work.
But then I get to thinking about how crazy that is. Some women take the better part of an hour doing their hair in the morning and I'm concerned about nine minutes one way or the other, including a shower? To keep my sanity, I remind myself that I've never had to take much more than a few minutes to get ready in the morning. Of course, I can still wet my head to catch stragglers, brush it, and look halfway decent, but sometimes I want to look better than halfway decent. I don't know. I guess sometimes I want to look like I didn't just wet down my bed-head and jump in the car.
Shaving my head back in '08 ruined me where this is concerned. A shaved head means next to no hair and absolutely no bed head. This makes mornings quick and ensures that my hair always looks the same no matter what. Straight out of bed, windy day, or just about anything else the world can throw at me. It's perfect really.
Unless you want cute hair. Which I kind of do. Compliments aside, a shaved head doesn't draw the best attention. Sure, there was less confusion in the women's restroom for whatever reason I've never been able to explain, but otherwise to most people I'm just another butch lesbian with a shaved head. Where's the fun in that? It's not what I am and not what I want to be.
Of course even if I get cute hair, it'll still be short and I'll still get confused for a butch lesbian. I guess what it all comes down to is my frustration at being errantly catagorized, pigeon-holed, and tossed aside. That's Austin for you. Well, it's probably a lot of places, just not a lot of places I think I'd like to live. Chalk one up for the good people of Texarkana, USA. For all they were or weren't, they saw me for who I was. Love me or hate me, they sure didn't ignore me. Maybe I'm simply adjusting to being a little fish in a really big pond, but I can't say I like it. I truly believe I'm a small town person, ie. I prefer to be a unique fish in a small, homogenous pond.
There's no changing me at this late date. It's either going to be cute hair (and less sleep) or a shaved head (and more sleep). I hate to spend the money on cute hair only to shave it off in a fit of bed-head fueled frustration. Crap. All these words and I'm still no closer to making a decision. Luckily tomorrow is my late day and I get to sleep in. I'll have time to eat breakfast, workout, and shower before work. No bed head tomorrow means my hair will probably survive another day and my internal debate will continue. Next week I'll be on vacation, away from my clippers, and able to sleep as late as I want everyday. If my hair survives that long, the ugly concern will assuredly supercede the bed-head concern and I'll be forced to make a decision. Until that point, I'll keep the bed-head at bay the best I can and endure.
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