You Are Beautiful

I first thought I might shave my head before my bicycle tour in June 2018. Fear of the response from others held me back. “What if Canadians aren’t friendly to such things?” So I got a relatively short cut, but I held off from shaving it.

I next had the thought of shaving my head around election time. I felt a very physical response to some of the election results and wanted my opinions to be conveyed in part through my hair. I also loved the strength Emma Gonzalez conveys. Such vulnerability and honesty in the aftermath of the Parkland shooting.

But a woman with a shaved head isn’t exactly normal in America. It was only a matter of time. Today was the day.

Someone called me a dyke.

I expected it even from that first thought before the bike tour. I planned to be so filled with the images of beautiful bald women that the intended insult would reflect right off of me, like arrows deflected from effective armor.

But today, it dented the armor.

And it’s so ironic to me that the word would dent anything at all. I warn my students never to use “gay” in a derogatory way. So why would I take a synonymous word directed at me with that a negative vibe?

I think it has to do with identity. That word isn’t part of my self-identity. It’s not ME! I’m not that thing, so don’t call me that…

Too, with my short hair part of what I’m trying to battle is societal gender identification. So what if society says you are supposed to have short hair, among other things, to be a woman? To be beautiful? Why are you trying to define me by your standards.

I say, “Be beautiful! You are beautiful.”

I’ve started meditating again. My goal is 20 minutes per day every day this month. Thus far I’m successful in reaching my goal. At the end of my meditation I do a short, seated prayer wishing “Kind thoughts,” “Kind words,” and “Kind actions” travel with me throughout my day.

So even when a person calls me something that is supposed to be inflammatory, I try to return this to that idea.

To the people who wished me verbal harm through a word that should have no barbs (but sometimes does), I wish you empathy in thoughts, words and actions.

I also wish you more experiences that challenge what you think you know and your worldview.

So here I am (below, right after the first cutting). Nearly hairless. When I look in the mirror, sometimes I am surprised by the difference. I’ve lived the vast majority of my life with a decent amount of hair. It takes some getting used to.

But when I look in the mirror now, I see nothing less than beautiful. And when I see myself through friends, it’s just the same. Same old me. Shorter hair, but same old soul. I get cold more often and faster. That’s the only real difference I can tell.

Haters gonna hate. I’m trying so hard to choose love instead.

Namaste.