look in the mirror
look at my phone
yearning to hear you say
that you miss me
too, that you love me
From the moment I stepped into the barbershop yesterday afternoon, the reaction of “omg you shaved all your hair off?” has not varied.
“Hello Beautiful, how can I help you today?”
Cut all my hair off!
The barber to my left who’s been undressing me with his eyes spins around in his chair to exclaim, “Absolutely not! Noooo, don’t do this!”
While the other barbers in the shop all rile up in agreement with him, the one that I was initially speaking with asks me if I was sure about this. Once I firmly nod my head, he leads me to his chair and two of the other barbers follow. As he preps his instruments, the interrogation begins and the questions were all asked at the same time and the SAME QUESTION.
“Do you have a boyfriend? What would he say?”
“You have such pretty and soft and GOOD hair! Why would you want to cut it? What would your boyfriend think of this?”
“So, back to the boyfriend…?”
I don’t have a boyfriend, I don’t have a boyfriend, I don’t have a boyfriend! I couldn’t bring myself to tell them that I’m a lesbian… When my barber finishes getting his tools set up he asks, “When did you decide that you wanted to cut it all off?”
“Uh uh! Are you sure? Prove it. Here!” As he hands me the pair of scissors, “You cut off the first piece!” | Mood: *Emojis: “OK” “COOL”*
Scissors now in hand, I grab as much of the front of my hair as I could. And just like that, all other noises began to fade away in the background.
This is for me.
After what seems like forever, I was finally done! He keeps telling me that I’m lucky to be such a “pretty girl,” but all I could do was pay and leave without a complaint (since I didn’t realize how much I did not like the haircut style at the time) […probably because I did not like being in this space.]
Little did I realize that this space was not limited to this barber shop.
This space is infinite, for it is in the way you care more about what other people think of you than what YOU think of YOU. Their energy and space and time has taken care of you, so why wouldn’t you owe them this? When someone in this everlasting space recognizes that I shaved all my hair off, I am immediately asked WHY!?
Why did I cut off MY HAIR?
Why would I now do this to MY HAIR?
Why … why … MY HAIR?
As I shrug my shoulders in response, they then ask if they can see it since my beanie or beret is covering my head. I give them another shrug, but this time followed by a no.
I HAVE NOT ASKED
I AM NOT ASKING
I WILL NOT ASK
TO LOVE ME
From the moment I stepped into the barbershop yesterday afternoon, the reaction of “omg you shaved all your hair off?” has not varied…except one, my own.
May the year of Nasty 19 be just that!
My calling is to know love
To love and keep loving
To be loved and be loving
And I hope that’s where my “pretty girl” shines from