Short hair on women (idea)
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[This node does not make sense|Setting the record straight ][Anyone with a strong opinion is wrong|To set the record straight], I did not cut my hair to show off my face. Unwittingly, I had made the leap to [The naked now|exposing my soul].
By now, you’ve probably [when did everyone get so attractive?|seen or met someone] who meets the description of [don’t tell her she’s beautiful|my friend Janelle]- Tall, slender, beautiful face with large doe eyes and full lips, made all the more stunning by a [noggin] that begs to be touched in its [nakedness]. I wish I could say I let go of my locks so I could be [if I was beautiful like you|heartbreakingly beautiful] like that. [contradictable|Au contraire], I did it to combat [am I hot or not?|my vanity]. I was going through [Being complicated is not fun, especially when not everyone agrees that you are|a period of intense transformation], and decided to simplify my life. My physical realities had changed so much and [in the most arbitrary fashion| so consistently], that geography, career, [nightmares|relationship], friendships, home, [don’t get me started|car], money, [can I trust you?|trust]- [All of a sudden everything sucks|none of it made sense any more]. I had lost all my reasons, and wasn’t really sure if there were any worth [why?|finding].
I heard an [I try not to eat the bullshit they feed me|insistent voice in my head] asking me to give it all away, so I did- starting with [velvet divorce|the wedding ring] that was consigned to the waves at ocean beach, followed by a television to a waiter at café [gratitude], and [spare me the details|the list goes on]. And as I pared it down to a backpack full of essentials and two boxes of journals, [stop talking to me|the insistent and helpful voice] mentioned that it might be time for a [haircut]. For the first time, in all of the giving away, I experienced [shear stress|resistance] instead of liberation, and a nagging sense of unease, until the first locks fell. Since then there has been [can I get an amen?|no looking back]. Now, [silly me|I wear my heart and my soul on my face], and if my grief is too much for you to look at, you may have to [look away|avert your face]. On the other hand, [look now, look again|when the juices flow through my loins], I only have to look at your eyes, to know that you can see it in my eyes, for I am no longer afraid to share with the world, who I really am. Sometimes I am afraid to let [everyone|you] know how I really feel, because I know [no one|you] worry about me. But with the [letting go of the past|hair gone], I’m learning to let go of my fears.
I used to be afraid of [don’t laugh|what you’d think of me], what you’d think I was thinking, [don’t put words in my mouth|of the spaces between words], [mean and hurtful|your laughter at my expense], [Don’t tell me everything|your critique of my choices], of freedom, of life, and mostly of [the final sleep|death]. I courted death extensively, dying a hundred times each day while [Don’t rush me, I’m fragile|changing lanes under your scrutiny] or [I’d rather die|catching the look on your face] when you walked in from work and found me on the phone, instead of in [a woman’s place|the kitchen].
In some cultures, men shave their heads before they light the funeral [pyre] of a parent. In my counter-culture, I shaved my head and lit a torch to [au revoir scaredy cat|the former shell of my frightened self].
[death to the coward|I am now officially dead]. Let life begin.
I gave up my hair in order to start [reincarnation|living again], and I’d do it all over again. So if a woman with short hair ever [romantic fool|piques your interest], know that she has many secrets she may not tell, but if you have eyes that can see, she has [ugly and true: beautiful and false|nothing to hide].