... but this entry will be a touch personal. And I apologize for the length. I started writing and things poured out.
Since I was in kindergarten, I have been picked on. Way back then, I had a speech impediment. That was the first thing to get bullied. Through the years, thanks to my lovely classmates and general society, I learned that I have big ears, my nose is crooked, my teeth are yellow, my face is gross, and my arms are hairy. When I was a kid, my teeth were stupid and crooked. I got braces, my teeth were stupid and metal. First I was too skinny, then my ass was too fat (pick an insult, idjits) and all in all, I just suck apparently.
Through this all, while my feelings got hurt on multiple occasions, I built up a thicker skin. Instead of trying to change things to better fit in, I developed the attitude of 'f*** it, you don't like me, go f*** yourself'. Or at least I thought I did.
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| My 'f*** it' face as a kid. |
Fast forward to today. I have been longing to get a certain haircut for the past six years. Reflecting on why I didn't just do it six years ago, I realized something important. While I thought I was confident in my appearance, I realize I'm actually terrified of being myself.
First, I didn't want to embarrass my parents. Being an only child, I was the 'center of attention' as they say. Now, I've noticed that when I say I'm an only child, peoples automatic reaction most of the time is "wow, lucky you, you must have grown up so spoiled." Yes, it was only me so my birthday was kind of a big deal and I didn't have to fight for attention or affection from my parents. However, with no sibling to take the spotlight, being an only child also meant that every time I screwed up, it was also a big deal.
I was a terrible student, never doing my homework, never studying, always daydreaming and writing stories when I should have been taking notes. Every failed test, every missed assignment, every threatening progress report and awful report card became the sole focus of that day, week, or even month. Looking back, I know school clearly wasn't for me (and it still isn't seeing as I dropped out of college) but I do wish that I had tried harder, if not to make my parents happy and proud, then at least to reduce the massive amount of stress and panic attacks I caused myself back then when, after blissfully living in my fantasy world, I was given my 'F' on the history exam and told I needed a parents signature on it. I wish I'd had a little brother or sister that would have dropped the bomb once in a while so I could breath easy and chill backstage for a moment while they were roasting under the spotlight. Then again, maybe they would have been perfect and intelligent, and I would have been in even deeper s***.
Needless to say, my appearance was also important, being an only child. I never wanted to disappoint my parents, so my teenage rebellion was limited to some crazy red eyeshadow and a fishnet shirt under my t-shirt once in a blue moon. I never expressed myself as much as I wanted to and I think that's when I started to subconsciously not care.
Second, I was afraid of being called a poser, or fake. I've always loved the goth/punk aesthetic. I think the clothing and make up are beautiful and I always wanted to express that. Most of my characters have that style, including the first comic book character I ever designed, Wyrd, who I first drew in my senior year of high school back in 2005 (pictured in black and white on the left).
The closest I came to expressing that style was when I was at the end of high school and just after graduation. I worked at CVS and would wear fishnet and insulting 'Happy Bunny' shirts under my photo lab coat (I'm still questioning why no one ever told me not to do this. The coat was never buttoned and the shirts said things like "you suck and that's sad") as well as several bracelets with studs on them. Even then, I was called a poser and wannabee. I've always been a dowdy girl, rarely seen with makeup, always wearing jeans and t-shirts and not doing anything with my hair most of the time, so the rare occasions that I dress or look anywhere close to how I want to, it's met with calls of 'fake'.
I remember the first time I saw the 'side cut' style six years ago on a singer named Cassie Ventura (pictured to the left), I thought it was the coolest thing. Totally badass and still feminine at the same time. I wanted to do it, but thought it was crazy and would be met with ridicule, so I never mentioned it.
Fast forward to today, everyone's mother, aunt, and sister have it, and now that I'm finally doing it, I fear it will be met with "oh, you're just jumping on the band wagon. Poser."
Why am I so afraid? I've overcome years of bullying about every aspect of my physical appearance. I've come out on top, refusing to mold myself to fit the standards of everyone else. I survived mostly unharmed after being extremely unpopular in high school where other people I've known turned to drugs, alcohol, extreme self harm or suicide.
All this time, I thought I had won because I didn't get plastic surgery. I didn't bleach my teeth. Now I find I've lost in an entirely different way. While I didn't change to fit standards, I also didn't change to fit my own wants.
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| My boring face circa 2010 |
I've become this blank, expressionless thing that yearns to look the way my heart feels, but is too afraid. I'm afraid of disappointing my parents, despite the fact that I am a 29 year old adult living on my own. I'm afraid of being judged as a fake because I'm just now getting a side cut, even though I really wanted it six years ago.
I've become so used to being nothing that I'm afraid to be myself.
I've become so used to being nothing that I'm afraid to be noticed.
I want to be my own person, not what I feel I'm supposed to be. I want to wear dark makeup and show off the shaved side of my head without thinking I'm disappointing someone. I am an artist, designer, writer, and creator. There are worlds within me. Strange creatures roam the halls of my brain when I sleep at night. Beautiful people emerge when I hold a pencil to a blank piece of paper. Why am I afraid to express my art on the outside? On myself through self-expression? I want piercings. I want tattoos. Why can't I do it? Why am I afraid to just cut my hair the way I want to?
I'm afraid, because for the first time, who I am and what I love will be on the outside for all to see. While it sounds dramatic and you may be thinking to yourself "all this because of a stupid haircut?" it is a big deal for me. All my life I've drifted through, unnoticed, admiring (and envying) the boldness of others. Their ability to be unafraid and show the world how they want to see themselves. My friend, Mary Kate, who went with me and got her own amazing haircut today, expresses herself however she wants to, unafraid to just go and do what she wants in the moment because she's fearless.
While it's in a completely different universe from the struggles of being Transgender (and I am in no way implying that my struggle with self-expression is anywhere close to how much a transgender person has to endure from the amount of hormones they have to take to the amount of surgeries they have to heal through to the endless amounts of people who don't understand and show them no respect), I want to be able to look in the mirror and not see a boring, average, pasty faced girl with long brown hair starring back. I want to see who I've always wanted to be.
And now I've taken the first step toward being able to do that.
