When I graduated from college, I cut all of my hair off. I thought it was the best idea ever. I had just spent the last 5 years doing everything imaginably inappropriate to my hair, and it was literally dead. Just threads of coarse string, if you will.
It took me a couple of months to realize that despite cutting my hair off, I was still damaging it by straightening it, so I reluctantly shut my eyes, went to Super Cuts, and went the whole nine yards. When my portly gay stylist was finished, I looked in the mirror and burst into tears. In the months following, I have grown accustomed to the look, but I also understand that this is something that should never be done again.
Okay, so here’s the problems with dating someone while my hair is like this:
1.) Sex is confusing.
Honestly, I would get confused as to which one of us was the boy. I mean, yeah, for the most part when I look at myself I think, “Oh, okay, you’re pretty.” But, then there are sometimes I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and I worry that my imaginary twin brother has just physically possessed me. Sex is vulnerable enough as is without having to worry about gender issues, thank you very much.
2.) I don’t love it.
If I don’t love it, how are they supposed to love it? Whoever I’m dating needs to love everything about me… that way, when I’m feeling down, they can bring me back up. I want to feel beautiful when I’m with someone, end of story. I mean, yeah, I am still really pretty with short hair, but I will always look better with long hair.
Halle Berry has super short hair and is always, undeniably feminine and beautiful. But she also has these amazing sweater stretchers that I, unfortunately, was not gifted with. I couldn’t even get Bs apparently. I’ve taken to wearing the Victoria’s Secret “Hello Bombshell!” bras which make hugging me a fairly painful experience for other females and gives me a general feeling of false advertising. I like to inform any guy interested in me that what he sees isn’t exactly what he gets…
Where I live currently, I don’t have blinds on my bedroom window so the house next to mine can see directly into my bed at night. This house is filled with college-aged boys, and I sleep mostly nude. Let me tell you something: the fact that I have not once caught them peering curiously into my window tells me that they looked once, assumed I was a boy, and then never bothered to look again. That, or they’re just really respectful and/or clever, but, come on… they’re college boys.
So, yeah. I’m not dating anyone until my hair is shoulder length again.
At the rate this is growing, I’ve got a few more years of the single life to go…
I have plenty of time to work on my career. 🙂