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“I am my Hair” or “A Repose in Womanhood”

posted 14th June 2011    Written by: Amanda    CATEGORY: All Posts, Amanda, Life Lesson, Love/Relationships, Season 4

Elle Canada ran an article in their June 2011 issue about cheating men. Normally, this is the sort of article that I would idly flip through and smile to myself, reassured in my relationship. It’s not that Mike is the perfect husband (’cause he ain’t). It’s that Mike is honest, almost to a fault. When he’s unhappy, I’m the first to know; the same goes for any other emotion or need.

Seriously. Asymmetrical knowledge is not his style.

So, while I was reading through the article — waiting for something to upload on my client’s FTP server — I noticed something strange. This was Real Journalism. Peadar de Burca spent five years interviewing men that cheated on their partners, trying to figure out motivations, personality type, and even what kind of woman the “other woman” happened to be.

I was intrigued.

I read on.

And then the showstopper.

In five years of interviews, I would always ask what the “other woman” was like: appearance, personality, profession. There was one constant. Longer hair. (Now you know why women compliment other women after a haircut: another rival out of the equation.)

Reeling, I placed the magazine on my desk and stared at the wall for a little while. Long hair and the elusive nature of femininity is a deep well of hurt for me. For a long, long time, I had a hard time feeling female. Gender dysphoria, although rarely discussed in polite company, is something that was a real issue for me growing up. There were instances where I felt like I had genuinely been assigned the wrong gender. I’ve identified far more often with the masculine in the past.

It wasn’t until I entered adulthood that I started to come to terms with womanhood. And, at least for me, hair has always been a huge part of that transformation.

When I read about the “other woman” and her long hair, I temporarily panicked. Mike had often commented that he missed my long, chestnut hair (in my own defense, the long hair was the result of my own laziness to get it cut… and that was six years ago). For our wedding, I relented and grew it out. The wedding pictures, although beautiful, are the Idealized Me (minus my weight gain). The Me that people expect me to be.

The Real Woman with Real Womanly Hair.

You see that picture down there? With the short hair? That’s the woman I see myself as. The punk rock look may not exude glamour but what it lacks in sophistication, it makes up in (strong) personality.

Rationally, I know that femininity is subjective; it means different things to different people. It’s fairly universal (at least in my experience) that many men prefer women with long hair — something about it screams, “I’m beautiful. I’m feminine. Come love me up, baby.”

Short hair is intimidating. It shouts, “I don’t need you. I’m strong and confident all by my lonesome. You’re welcome to come along for the ride, though.” Truth? It’s part defense mechanism. If I don’t let people believe that I need them, then I don’t have to be disappointed when they don’t show up.

Whether or not long hair is the definitive feminine form, it’s just one part of the whole. Hair changes. People evolve — and, in some cases, devolve. I defiantly stand behind my choice to chop my hair and be who I am.

After all, as Gaga says:

I am my hair.

Image found via Image Spark.

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Don’t Play it Safe. Be Bold.

posted 5th March 2010    Written by: Molly Mahar    CATEGORY: All Posts, Inspiration, Molly

Do you want to play it safe?

“Research on the attributes that we associate with “being feminine” tells us that the most important qualities for women are: thin, nice, pretty. If you want to play it totally safe, you have to be willing to stay as small, quiet, and attractive as possible. “ -Brene Brown

I do not want to live my life playing it safe.  I don’t want to rest in conventional, content to rush about in a daze, checking errands off my to do list, putting in facetime where required, doing all the things expected of me.

Getting by, by giving up on life, is not my style.

Ladies, safe is not the new black.  I don’t want you to play it safe.

When we get too used to playing it safe–being small, quiet and attractive–we forget what it’s like to be out in the world, unencumbered and earnest.  We forget what it’s like to beat on our chest with a Tarzan yell and declare, “Today’s the day to break the rules!  To climb trees, write a poem, eat cherries, to live today as if it’s all I’ve got!”

To play is safe requires us to forget that we are overflowing with a unique life force.  Overflowing with dreams, and hopes, and an incredible capacity to love. It requires us to make our adventures and goals fit within society’s ruler of acceptable.

Playing safe takes away our opportunity to carve our place in the world. There’s a cosmic space that belongs only to us– it’s our unique contribution to the world– and safe doesn’t allow us to paint it with rainbows, to sing at the top of our lungs, to make millions in the service of others, to dance naked, or to take pride in our quirks.

Safe keeps those differences, those shimmering contributions, from ever emerging.

Safe makes us afraid to be big, bold, and unique.  Safe makes us forget what that would even look like.

Which leads me to this…

How Not to Play it Safe

We are a generation of educated, gutsy women who are capable of so many incredible contributions (from raising amazing children to creating art, from making a difference in our communities to starting businesses, from exploring the world to inspiring others) yet we spend so much of our energy on our outer appearance.

We don’t feel good enough unless we “look good enough.” And “looking good” requires being thin, stylish, pretty, and pulled together.  All of the time.  And seemingly without effort.

Reality check?  This is impossible.

Stop letting your outer appearance dictate how your feel about yourself, your life.  Stop striving for thin as if it’s the answer to everything.  Stop trying to fit in with whatever pretty happens to equal this year.

Be Big.  Be Unique.  Be YOU.

Strive for healthy, for strong, for capable. Love your body by fueling it properly and moving it and adorning it with fashion you love.   Celebrate your unique beauty, the bloodlines that connect you to each and every gorgeous woman in your family.

Deck yourself in sequins, in pinstriped suits, in cowboy boots, in sundresses, in rock tee-shirts—whatever it is that tickles your fancy. Dress for the woman you are, not the one you’re pretending to be.

Honor your reality.  Practice loving you, as is.

As far as being nice goes…  I’m all for kind, for loving, for rose-colored glasses and solving problems with honey.  But when nice starts equaling quiet, safe, small—it’s time to break out the bold.

You’re a woman.  You’ve got an opinion, a unique take on the world.  Make sure it’s heard.

Don’t play it safe.

You’re hurting yourself and those around you by agreeing with something that makes you want to pull your hair out.  You’re disrespecting yourself by constantly grinning and bearing it.  You’re giving up your power by biting your tongue.

There’s a time to be nice.  There’s a time to get your sass on.  There’s time to stand up for yourself no matter what the cost.  There’s even a time to pull the bitch card.

Don’t be afraid.  Be Bold.

Parting Words?

You are a woman, thin or thick, small or big.  You are a woman, pretty or unusual, attractive or unique.  You are a woman, nice or sassy, quiet or bold.

Wherever you fall on the spectrum, ladies, don’t play it safe.

This is your life.  Live it with all the guts, glory, and bravado you can muster.

Dive in.  Make it Count.

And don’t worry–you’re not alone.  I promise you, I’m doing the same.

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