Chrysalis

Life is strange. You never really know what it is that is going to make things go POP!

I've been working on making this life change for a long time now. Taking action for, oh, six or seven months. And things have happened, but somehow, I always felt as if there were something almost blocking my way-- like a veil or a thin skin. I could see through it, sort of, see the shadows of my life-to-be on the other side, moving and shifting. I could see the shapes of things, but no details. And after all this work, I was confused and frustrated over why I just couldn't reach through.

But one day, after I came home from a long shift of bartending, I went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. I took my hair down out of my requisite ponytail, and it just fell around my face in way that made me see something new.

"That's it," I said to myself. "That's how I want my hair cut."

So I pulled it back into a pony tail, and I cut it off. At the first snip of the scissors, I went, "Oh my god, I can't believe I am doing this." But then I shrugged and went ahead. I cut and shaped and shortened until it was this kind of punky, kind of almost a bob cut, longer in front than in back.

Hair is a big deal-- don't let anyone tell you differently. How you wear it identifies you with your community and states your life style. It can even communicate your beliefs about life and religion, and all sorts of things. It is also very linked with sensuality, sexuality and being a woman.

Now I had long, layered, wavy hair-- shiny and raven colored. Big identity statement. Very girly, like a mane, even in a pony-tail. Almost Farrah-ish if Farrah were a brunette. Men always told me to keep it long.

But something about that night said, "okay, it's time."

You have no idea how differently people react to me now. It's bizarre. People are fascinated-- and it's not just about looks or the outward show, but it's almost as if they think they can see something of my insides, of who I am, and they are drawn to it.

I spent a long time trying to minimize my appearance. I am a pretty girl. I have always been a pretty girl. It pissed me off that some people could only see the package, and often didn't respect the human inside. So I wore baggy clothes, hid my face behind hair, used no or minimal makeup. But that's one of the things that's great about getting older, you start to grow into your own skin, get comfortable in there, even with things like beauty, or chubby thighs, or being too short. So, I am pretty, okay. There's nothing shameful about it. And why not embrace it? But I can be pretty while also being unique, while also showing that I am not just a pretty girl.

As I have been working on my internal transformation, and my lifestyle change, I have also been tweaking my appearance. And there's something about cutting all my hair off that has allowed the world to see what has been going on inside. Don't ever believe that what you present to the world doesn't matter. It's almost as if a lot of the internal developments aren't really real until the people around you recognize them as real.

You know, maybe I am selling my insides short. (that's a funny line.)

Maybe all these people who are telling me how much I have blossomed and changed really are seeing more than just a new haircut and a playfulness with clothing.

Maybe they are seeing me scrape off the veil, the skin that has been covering who I really am, and seeing me emerge into myself.

Maybe the external show is me no longer being afraid to be myself, to present who I am to the world.

Hmmm. Butterfly wings.

Maybe they're not as insubstantial and unimportant as I thought.