Thursday, April 29, 2010
HAIRCUT! (Alex- blue)
So, i finally got my hair cut the other day. I wanted something that would look good as Vickie and Alex. I've been researching mens haircuts for a few months and debating. But then I noticed a style very similar to what I was looking for on a female high school classmate of mine. She was always somewhat of a role model for me growing up. Later, after we graduated I found out she was bi-sexual as well. Well.... now she's got a hair cut that looks FUCKING AWESOME on her.... but is almost identical to the male haircut that I've been thinking about. SWEET!
Fortunately, my classmate has a similar body build as I, so I figured it would work for me too. Got my hair cut and now I am thrilled. I have been frequently been breaking out in giggles because it is fun to play with. I can gel it into all sorts of styles. Flat like Rhianna, a faux-haux, spiky flat top, swirled. And, it makes me feel more confident as a male and want to get a wig for my female side. I have never felt this confident as Alex before (nor happy). Its like an identity verification. What HAS been pissing me off is that since I don't have the materials to bind my chest, unfortunately I fear people will think of me as a butch lesbian which is NO WHERE near the truth. *sigh* One thing at a time and no reason to spoil the fun, right! I have a little victory, it seems (or feels like).
An interesting thing I noticed is that getting my hair cut like this brought up an old memory. I often say that my first memories of knowing I was a boy in a female body was at my house in Lima, NY. But this memory hails from Niagara Falls, where I lived until I was 5. When i was 4-ish, I saw a guy with a mohawk. I thought it was cool. So during "nap-time" I cut all my hair off the sides. In my mind, I was doing it because I wanted to emulate something that was gender appropriate, not just because it was cool. NOTHING I said to my mother make sense to her when I tried to explain. She didn't understand. I liked my hair short. I think this is my first honest memory of knowing my gender didn't match my body. I hated it long, even when she made me grow it out, curling it under with irons every morning before school.
Apart from a fear of being burned by the irons a few times, I hated being feminine, even as a child. When I was in second grade my grandparents and parents re-did my room as a "surprise". The redid it in pink and white with lace, complete with a 4 post-canopy bed. Vickie, I'm sure was thrilled, but for the most part I hated my room so completely that I wouldn't use it any more except when I had to go to sleep. Even then, I never slept well in the room. It felt like an utter violation and I started having terrible nightmares (I'm sure influenced by the molestation as well)and started sleep-walking. Once I was a teenager, often times my room was the only safe haven from emotional and physical abuse in the house. Literally, I think it was me taking "refuge" in a stereotype (being a girl) that I didn't want but had to play. Certainly, psychologically I was that way too as well because I would wear makeup and dresses to avoid lectures and screaming at me. But, it all just made the scar that much deeper because I was stuffing the pain down. Honestly though, I had more immediate issues (rape, abuse, being sick from gluten, etc) that had to take priority, unfortunately, for immediate survival.
Its funny how trying to being yourself can be such a difficult process. YAY haircuts!