Category: Growing Up

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A panic attack in the worlds healthiest food store

He started speaking to me

I raised my hand in a gesture that said

No thanks, not today

“Wow, you have a great ass”

I stop and my mouth opens

“Fuck you, you fucking piece of shit”

It came out louder than I expected

angry and urgent

almost desperate

He was close enough to hit

my body jerked forward like I might 

A great ass

Words from a mouth heard through my ears but I felt them 

like a hand on my ass

Strong, gripping, cupping

A rounded palm invasion

He grabbed my ass

A man, a stranger standing next to me grabbed my ass

But no, just words

I walk to my car shaking

I start driving

I think about

the men sitting on front stoops 

whistling at my 8 year old body

uttering words in a 

language I don’t know

as I walked to the corner store to 

buy Now and Laters and Munchos

The guy at a friends party who “tapped” his pool

stick between my legs

out of nowhere and everyone thought it was funny

The men at bars and clubs

casually placing hands on the

small of my back and the sides of my ribs

The men at work who told me

I had great legs and tried greeting me

with a kiss on the cheek

Or waited for me to finish up so 

they could have a word

The ones who holler out car windows as they pass

or beep and make me jump when I’m

just trying to go for a walk

The tyrant I lived with for 3 quarters of my life

who walked around dominating

his way through my childhood

getting off on

the fear he invoked

in all the women in his life

Knowing he could say and do whatever he

wanted and no one 

would do a damn thing about it

The silence

The shaking my head and walking away

The rage and fire that engulfed my body

The silence

The assumption that this is to be expected from men and it is

The learned understanding that this is just how men are

This is just how women are treated

This is just what happens when you walk down the street

in shorts, jeans, sweatpants, a skirt, a dress, a trash bag

When you are 8 and when you are 35

This is normal

This is all you’ve known

No one says it’s wrong

and so the feelings you have

the rage 

humiliation 

violation

anger

fear

have nowhere to go

Nowhere to go

My hands grip the steering wheel 

and I let out a murderous scream

I am driving faster than I should 

It’s raining

I park my car, put my 

mask on and 

walk into Whole Foods

I am frantically searching for items unknown

I suddenly have no idea why I came

I zigzag through leisurely shoppers

It is too big, too loud, too bright

There are too many people and 

I want to tell everyone what

has just happened to me

Because the longer I sit with it 

the more it feels like

my throat is expanding but my airway is getting smaller

My mind racing for what I 

wrote on the list I didn’t bring with me

I am gasping for breath

I let out audible noise as I exhale

I feel condensation building around my nose and mouth

I speak out loud, BREATHE MARIA

Coffee 

I cannot find the kind that I buy

I start to panic

I let out more and louder noises

I have no clue what it sounds like

I just cannot keep quiet for 

fear my body might explode from the inside out

Tears start pooling up in my eyes

I try blinking them away

I cannot breathe

I need to get out of here 

My skin is hot

I can hear my heart beating in my ears

My throat feels tight, swollen, horse, scratchy and burning 

as it remembers the anger that stifled and then erupted

As it remembers the stranger that touched me with words

He put his words on me

He put his words on me

I felt them 

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february

the question of wether or not we loved each other 

hung like the golden autumn leaves as a backdrop to the deer carcasses on the side of the highway

illuminating doom

i miss you my friend

and I wish we still lived in wonder

i drive by your old house on the way to visit my parents

you don’t live there anymore

someones car is in the driveway

the horseshoe of Ferncroft

i used to drive there in the dark and park at the bend beneath the power lines

i think I’m still that person sometimes

hiding in the night

wishing things were different

will I ever grow up

and like who I am

seems like I’m always recovering

maybe that’s when I’m at my best

every time I drive by

i think of those power lines

how far do they go

if I could travel along them

could I ever get to a better place

where i‘m not trying so hard

i’m always trying

but I think I’m doing it wrong

my efforts falling short

i’d like to be the source that travels in those wires

blank but deafening

only I never seem to get to the right places

maybe you were right

i’ll never be okay

never quite happy enough to be happy

never sad enough either

it’s just that I think I’m living someone else’s life sometimes

and I don’t know what they want from me

all these street signs that raised me

Heard and Blossom

Washington and Clarke

i wonder if the wires will take me

 where I ride my bike around the same block

 where summers felt as long as winter actually is

 where angels watched from a kitchen window

i wonder if I walked into that pond at the end of your street

could I emerge, reborn

stripped of scar tissue and what I remember 

rise up a new person

someone who isn’t afraid to choose

none of these things will make me happy

if I walked back through that front door

climbed the two staircases up to the third floor attic

and flew out the window 

would I crash onto the pavement of those front steps 

between the lions carved from stone

or would I rise above the telephone wires and street lamps

and never feel fear to speak again

or maybe I would be a messy little girl and that would be okay this time 

e  v  e  r  y time I get what I want I feel empty

there is something missing 

i might find it written in the street signs

North and Main

Livingston

Shawsheen and Whipple

when new meant better

a real house where a real family would live

ghosts were supposed to stay behind

pictures up the hallway

devil sleeping on the couch

always unsure 

not quite right in this body

bones stiff

heart fluttering

small cage

chasing breath

getting taller

fears settling in their new positions 

cozy insecurities

discomfort painted the walls

i don’t want to be here

again

nobody on this earth knows me

myself included 

i see happier faces

always gloating, laughing

they see what I can’t

have what I never will

know the things I haven’t learned yet

figured it out

i’m listening

i’m waiting eagerly

desperately 

if I take steps forward

i might just fall out of that third floor window

and land in the pond at the end of your street

and if I follow the power lines 

i might just swim all the way out of here

and breathe for the first time new air

and it will fill my lungs until my chest expands into new depths

dimensions I never knew were there

and I’m smiling

i can smell it

acceptance

i remember it

peace

i hear it

laughter

i feel it

safety

i taste it

joy

i made it

i finally made it

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Relearning and Unlearning who I am and Who I am not

When I first separated from my ex-wife the only thing that felt separate was our locations. She was living there, I was living here. Everything else still felt totally connected, which made it hard for me to wake up, and move on with my life. The first month or so was the worst. Everything I had done for the last seven years involved another person, every decision I made. Suddenly I found myself in the grocery store staring at food and not knowing whether I wanted it or “we” wanted it. What toast do I buy for breakfast, and what do I like to put on it? Do I even want toast, or do I want oatmeal? Those bananas are too ripe, but are they the right ripeness for me? What kind of tea do I want? What about my coffee in the morning, will I drink full or half calf? What should I make for dinner, and how much leftovers do I need for a one person lunch the next day? We can’t eat rice and vegetables for three nights in a row, that’s boring and repetitive. But wait, I LOVE rice and vegetables and CAN eat it three days in a row! Don’t even look at cookies, ice cream, or chocolate bars, you have no one to surprise with those, but would YOU like some? I had no clue what I would want sitting on the couch after dinner as a treat with my tea. So I said, fuck it. I didn’t shop. I drank my sisters tea, would run into whole foods on the mornings I worked, grab something for lunch, and I honestly can’t remember what I ate for dinner. Will I ever buy a bottle of wine again? Who am I going to share it with? Who is going to get as excited as I am about it? Can I be excited about it all on my own? I physically could not bring myself to think about it. I didn’t even want to eat or shop, suddenly it felt like a chore.

Even getting dressed in the morning felt weird. Who am I trying to impress? What do I wear when I’m not dressing for the pleasure of another person. And did I really just say “for the pleasure of another person?”  Who the hell am I?!?! That was the problem. I had forgotten. It’s not that I didn’t know, I had simply forgotten. I had to relearn certain things about myself. It was a book I hadn’t opened in a while but at one time, I knew it word for word. What do I love? What gives me pleasure? What makes me feel good in the morning? What makes me smile? What makes me feel confident? What decisions will I make when my opinion is all that matters? When there is no fear of judgment, disapproval or disappointment?

As the weather was getting colder I realized I had to go into my storage and pull out all of my sweaters. After rummaging through them, I could not even bring myself to take them out of the bags they were in. Old sweaters I would have thrown out long ago but kept around because she thought they were cute on me. Sweaters I bought for her but she didn’t wear so I wore them instead. Sweaters I wore for holidays and for cold walks on Thanksgiving because some families (my in-laws)  like to go on long, freezing cold walks on Thanksgiving morning. Well you know what? Not my family!! I left them in the bag and without hesitation spent an ungodly amount of money on new winter attire from Top Shop. Those old clothes would have made me feel like I was putting on clothes that belonged to someone else. In a sense, I would have been. I was realizing that I had slowly transformed myself into someone that fit snuggly (tried to anyway) into another persons life. Little tweaks here and there that felt like the “expected” thing to do, all added up and turned me into someone else. Sometimes it was just the easier thing to do, like switching to a new brand of coffee. But other times it was something much bigger, like choosing to stay home on Sundays when all my siblings are at my parents house. Convincing myself that I in fact needed a day at home with my wife. And that I can’t possibly be expected to spend every single Sunday with my family even though that is exactly what I had done and looked forward to my whole entire life. Ever try forcing something to fit in a space it’s too big for? You get bulges, wrinkles, cracks. It simply does not work.

Relationships are a wonder to me. What we do in them, for them, in spite or them, and despite them. There are things we as individuals are willing to let go of, look past, accept and tolerate for a relationship. And some of that is okay but without boundaries you are simply losing yourself. You are taking both feet off the ground and not only letting but expecting and hoping that someone else will carry you. And the trouble with that is that they can bring you anywhere. Every day my feet are planted firmly on the ground. My legs are strong and sturdy. I am working hard to ensure that in the future nobody ever knocks me off my feet again but rather stands next to me with both their feet firmly planted as well. Side by side we will grow much taller. 


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All the Days

Today I am happy

Today you have not crossed my mind hardly once

I say hardly because you are still embedded in the back of my subconscious 

Only a little though

I think about you hardly at all

Except for the days that I wake up thinking about you

Which aren’t many

But some

And I am at peace

Aside from the days that I am burning with hurt

Those are the days that I hate you

But then there are days that I think of you fondly

And I am grateful for you

But that is only on the days that I do not feel used

And taken advantage of

I am good

On the days that I’m not bad

And I only miss you on the days that I don’t not miss you

And I only crave your attention on days when I’m feeling insecure

But I only feel insecure on the days that I don’t feel lucky that I only wasted 6 years on you and not 20

And on the days I don’t fantasize about the life I want to live and smile to nobody but myself

Those are the only days I feel low

Because on other days I am so lifted I could fly

Because there were days you weighed me down

I might even say most days

So now-a-days I am light as a feather

And people tell me I don’t have the look of someone going through a hard time

And I say that is because sometimes the hard time is what makes everything better

And the other day someone told me I looked great

And I said I guess divorce looks good on me

Because some days I can feel sad about what happened

But I am not sad

There are days that I feel angry

But I am not angry

There are times that I feel devastated

But I try to keep those to just moments

And those moments are becoming far and few between

Because between the days that I might feel like I can’t process the way my life has changed

Are days that I breathe a sigh of relief 

And that breath gets me through the day

And on to the next day

And on to the next

I remember the day we met

And I remember the day I thought this was it

And then there’s the day I knew this was ending

And somewhere in between were days of amazing and days of misery

Days where I thought you were crazy

And some days I thought I was delusional 

And I can’t forget about the days we talked about a family

There were so many days I thought you made me a better person

But on other days we brought out the worst in each other

And yesterday I thought about you every time I was in the car

And today I did the same

But tomorrow I might forget I ever loved you at all

Because there was a day you made a decision that changed our trajectory 

And that day was a terrible day

But it wasn’t the worst day of my life 

I’ve had many days that were worse than that

I wonder what that day was like for you

There are days I think, you weren’t the worst thing that happened to me

But as the days go on I’m realizing you weren’t the best either

And in 100 days from now I bet I will feel less bitter

And 200 days from now I might feel less pain

And in 365 days this is going to feel more like a memory 

And less like it feels on this day

Which is like I’m on a carousel 

Slowly spinning around with every emotion moving up and down in a consistent flow 

Today you told me you still think of me

And it made me cry

Because it’s easy to assume that on the day to day, you don’t think of me at all

But you said you think of me all the time

That’s pretty frequently

Is it safe to say I probably cross your mind everyday 

There are days that I think about myself more than I think I about you

And those are joyful thoughts

And they get me through the day

And on to the next day

And every day is a new day

And that gets me through the day too

And on to the next day

And on to the next 

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A Dangerous Current

You are a dangerously tempting current 

Swimming with you pulls me too far out

Swimming against you is impossible 

And the moon will only light the way 

Until the clouds roll in

And they will roll in

I believed in you until I didn’t

Trust was unwavering until it wasn’t

You were a soft place to land

Until you turned to stone

Cracks in your pavement should have been a warning

There’s been trouble here before

But I had a steady place to plant my feet

And your eyes were kind

I remember when you asked me

Will you do whatever it takes

You asked me

My response was my punishment

I let go of the wind 

And held onto your coattails

You sang songs to lure me in

And then scolded me for singing along

You stand next to me now

There’s a lot behind your eyes

That I can’t see anymore

I hear words in a language I can’t speak

You’re at a distance I will never reach

I wouldn’t dare take the chance

You’re in a world that does not look safe to me

Dark shadows fly around you

And I pray they don’t get too close

But I fear they have already gotten what they came for

You were the sunshine

You were warm and all encompassing 

But you were broken in a way I couldn’t understand

Your bits and pieces too heavy for me to lift

Your cracks so big I fell in

Landed in the middle of the ocean

And when I finally got sight of the shore

The current kept pushing me back out

And back out

And back out

You knew I would tire out

You knew I wasn’t strong enough to keep going

So I let my flailing arms and legs rest

And I laid on my back

Felt the water tickle my ears and sides of my face 

As I rose and sank with the motion of the water

And just as I gave in

I was set free 

You say my poetry is too depressing

Here is a happy ending for you

I am more in love with myself than

I ever was with you

I met someone so trustworthy

So loyal

So uplifting

So passionate

She isn’t condescending

Or judgmental

She is a much better lover than you

And she will never abandon me for someone else

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The Liberating Divorce

You know what’s amazing and liberating about getting a divorce? Realizing you just spent the last 6 years trying to be loved by someone and now the only person that you want to love you is YOU. It is the most free I have ever felt. And honestly, the most loved.  I believe it is something that goes for the most part unnoticed, the losing of yourself for a relationship. It’s not entirely conscious. But there were definitely moments I had throughout my marriage where I thought, this isn’t what I want to do, this doesn’t feel right, I’m not speaking up, am I sacrificing too much? am I giving too much away? am I losing myself? I battled a little over how I let that happen. How did I, a woman who has always been independent and strong willed, let herself go like that? How did I give myself up so easily?

I started to believe I needed my marriage. I needed it more than I needed myself. And that is bullshit. Nobody needs anybody. What I needed was to re-center myself or maybe I was never that centered to begin with. I struggled my whole life with depression. I grew up in a violent, abusive home. My parents both dealt with drug addictions. I watched my father abuse my mother and my sisters and I watched my mother take it and allow it in silence. I was never shown the love I needed from either of my parents. So it has taken me a while to truly gather myself into what I would consider the best version of who I could be. I haven’t had the best examples. I never would have guessed it would take the end of what I thought was my most significant relationship in order for me to find that. But when you really give something your all, and I truly and literally gave it my all, only to watch it dissolve right in front of your face, it wakes you the fuck up. 

For the first time in my life I am adventurous and I’m adventurous on my own. For the first time in my life I am truly confident and I’m confident on my own. For the first time I am happy, content, grounded, centered and fulfilled. I feel less alone than I ever have and more connected than I ever have. I am paying attention to my body and listening to what it needs, and how it feels. I am honoring my emotions. I am nurturing friendships that have been neglected. I am so present, and aware. When my marriage ended I felt like something had been taken away from me, but now I realize I have received more than I lost. The end of my marriage was hard and it was difficult but it would be a shame to focus on that and miss out on all the beauty that is around me and within me. 

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New Eyes

It’s a new start

You’ve had them before

You’re okay at them

You can look with new eyes

Try them on

See how they fit

A little snug at first

But you will break them in

Things will look brighter

You will see more clearly

You will see details you never noticed

Colors you didn’t know where there

People you never saw before

Voices you never heard

Sounds, even the quiet ones,

Will be crisper, louder, less staticky

Maybe you might find you can breathe easier over time

Your lungs will expand more

Breathe in more on the inhales

Breathe out more on the exhales

It’s a new start 

But you have old friends with you

Faces you will recognize

There in the mirror, there’s one

Say hello again

Reintroduce yourself 

Be kind to her 

Make her feel welcome

Show her around

Give her comfortable clothes

Maker her a cup of tea

Talk to her, like old times

Like you did when it was just the two of you

Hold her hand 

Tell her she is beautiful 

Tell her she is not alone despite being left

Tell her everything around her is safe

When you build a wall

You build it brick by brick

It’s sturdy but it isn’t permanent 

You can take one brick away at a time

Leaving just a small square to look through

And through that square, everything will look closer

Even the far away things

Things like happiness

Things like strength

Things like the future

Things like forgiveness

Things like healing

Speak loud if she can’t hear you

Or softly if she cowers away

Look straight at her

Make eye contact

She can see you but she needs to be guided

These are new eyes

And she hasn’t been down this road for a while

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Rewind, this was NOT the plan.

What happens when you’re an adult and you still have no clue what you are doing with your life? You are at a standstill. You have no vision, no goal, no clear path. All you know is that you are not happy and you want to be fullfilled. How do you avoid feeling like up until this point you have wasted your time? And not just time or even valuable time but your LIFE. How do you avoid feeling like you have wasted your life?

You look at people you know who are happy and content. For some people it’s genuine. I think for many, it is content with being unhappy. There is a difference between being truly happy and having happy moments. Can you ever be truly happy with every aspect of your life? Can you love your downtime, work, family, friends, and social life? Can you be satisfied with your physical appearance and be mentally stable? And on top of that be overall healthy? Do all of these things have to be top notch in order for someone to truly, really, genuinely be 100% happy? You could argue that it isn’t possible for all of that. Something inevitably goes wrong or falls short. So, the answer is, you need to be happy despite what isn’t perfect. It is no easy feat, but it is possible. Anything is possible.

Decisions are mandatory in life. You are making them everyday, all day. You decide to wake up, you decide to have coffee over tea, you decide to put gel in your hair, shave your legs(or not). You decide what to take for lunch, to order out for dinner, to finally get in bed before ten o’clock.  You make decisions that consistently impact your day, your general mood, and your life. And you make them without actually knowing what the outcome will be, without even necessarily thinking of what it will be. However, you probably know what you want it to be.  You have coffee, because it will help keep you more alert on your drive into work. But you get to work only to find you are jittery, and your heart is racing. Oh well! What are you going to do? Regret that you decided to have coffee? Beat yourself up over the fact that you didn’t think about the potential to feel over caffeinated?  Question, why did I do that? Why didn’t I just have the tea? What was I thinking? This was such a horrible decision, no good has come out of it at all!  No, chances are you don’t do any of those things. You don’t go back and try to analyze precisely what went into your decision of having coffee and what you thought would happen verses what did happen. There is a chance you don’t even associate your jitters with the coffee. You could go all day thinking you just felt weird. Either way, you go about your day, maybe drink a few extra glasses of water.

Yet, when you make more serious decisions in life and the outcome is not what you hoped for, you do exactly that. You dwell, you regret, you question. Nobody makes a decision because they think something bad might come of it. You are always making them because you think it is right, better, smarter. It might be the harder way but you still make the decision. You decide, in hopes that it was the right choice. You decide to move across the country for school or a new job. You might get there, not get into the school, or lose the job after a month. You might get there and realize the dream job isn’t so dreamy after all. In addition, you have a falling out with family, and get into a car accident. It would feel as though as soon as you got there, everything went wrong. And you would feel like you made the wrong decision. You would be right about one thing, and that would be that things turned out differently. But that doesn’t mean you made the wrong choice. The jitters are from the coffee, but not from your decision to have the coffee.

When you make a decision, you make it with intention. When you make a decision, you have to commit. You commit to it, you stand behind it, you have faith in it. You have faith in yourself. It’s not a game show, you didn’t choose door number three and get slimed. But if it were, and you did, you would go home and wash it off. When things do not go the way you thought, you go with it. You change with it, you adjust. You make it what you want it. You don’t sulk over how everything sucks, this isn’t what you wanted, and now what are you going to do? Nothing is ever certain, we don’t have a way to see into the future or to know how things are going to turn out. But we make decisions despite that. We have to. We don’t avoid, we can’t go back and change anything. We have to look forward. Always look forward. And tomorrow you have half-caff.

 

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The Real World

When I told my family that I had decided to quit my job, sell my condo, buy a motorhome, and travel around the country for as long as my savings account would allow, they were surprised to say the least. There was excitement and disbelief. It was all very positive. This is so exciting! I can’t believe you’re doing this! How long will you be gone? Where are you going? Can we visit you along the way? They knew my wife and I might come back or we might have found someplace we wanted to live. My father lacked a little of the excitement. He was perhaps more…skeptical? He’s old school and traditional. Extremely old school and traditional. You might ask how old school and traditional can he be with a gay daughter? And you would be right to question that but that’s for a whole other post. His mentality was kind of like, Okay, go for it, have fun, be careful, and when you decide to come back to the real world we will be here and hopefully your jobs will too. He didn’t really get it.

What the hell is the real world anyway? And why isn’t what I was planning on doing a part of it? Why has life been summed up to work, owning a home, starting a family, student loans, retirement accounts, and having “fun” on the weekends? I don’t get it. And I don’t like it. Actually, I loathe it. That is not a life to me and I refuse to make it MY real world. After traveling and living on the road I knew that despite where we needed up, we were not going to fall victim to ordinary life again. In my soul and gut I knew I could not possibly accept it, not after being exposed to the beauty of freedom and the joy of living a life I never imagined was possible. But how?

There is just no getting around it, you need money. At least I believe you do anyway. Because I don’t want to live on the streets or eat food out of dumpsters. That’s not exactly the alternative lifestyle I’m imagining. But I believe you can live a life where you get to do the things that give you the most joy. I believe you should make money specifically to do those things. I spent all of my twenties making and saving money for things that gave me no joy. I bought a condo that stressed me out, I bought a brand new car that got me to and from work every damn day. And I was saving money because I thought that I should. I was saving it for the future but for what in the future? A nicer, bigger condo? A newer, more expensive car? A retirement account to be thankful for in 40 years? Those things might give some people joy, and if they do then great! By all means, save away. I am not saying there is anything wrong with it, but I was doing those things and I was miserable. I never did anything I wanted to. I never went back to trapeze class because it was too expensive even though I thought about it all the time. I never took days off of work to go for hikes, or go to museums or to the beach. I never enjoyed nature even though I felt it pulling at my heart strings.

You know, it’s funny. People always say, Wow, what a dream! I wish I could do that! And my response is, YOU CAN! People said to me, How could you have left your family? I could never leave my family! And my response is, YES YOU COULD! I truly believe the thing that made me leave and pursue my ideal world was passion. If anyone isn’t doing it, they don’t want it bad enough. I had such passion and fire inside of me, if I didn’t leave I felt I literally would have died. Of course I knew I would miss my family if I left, but the alternative was a much darker outcome for me. And what I discovered was so profound. It was something I was never going to get by staying put just so that I could make it to Sunday dinner at my parents.

I discovered MY real world. And it did not involve living in a house with a massive mortgage, owning a nice car, having twenty pairs of jeans, new bathing suits every summer, working like a slave, stressing over bills, or waiting until the friggin weekend to do what I wanted to do. I discovered simplicity and minimalism. I listen to my friends talk about selling their starter homes for something bigger, and I cannot wrap my head around 1500 sq. feet of space not being enough. Nothing is ever enough. Everyone strives for the same things and they are never happy enough. They say they wish they could do this or that, but they are never driven enough to do it. So they settle and go through life being complacent . Complacency does not lead to happiness or fulfillment.

So how do you do it? How do avoid falling into the rat race? How do you prevent yourself from living just to work and working just to pay for your mortgage, loans, car payment, childcare, etc.? There isn’t one answer. Everyones quest for their real world will be different because everyones ideal real world is different. Something that helps is knowing what you don’t want, what you do want and what you are willing to do for it. I can’t say never, but for now I know that my wife and I refuse to be slaves to a mortgage or to jobs that leave us no time to do what makes us feel alive. We don’t need much. We don’t find value in “things”. And when you can let go of all the materialistic shit and focus on the experiences that truly fulfill you, you can stop living for a paycheck. After all, nature is always there, right outside your window, free of charge.

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The Trouble with my Hair

 My hair, it is the vein of my existence. For my entire life I have received comments on my hair. Most of them compliments, some of them backhanded, and some it is hard to tell. It has been both flattering and embarrassing. I have been interrupted during dates and flagged down in departments stores. I have been told it is a blessing and a curse leaving me to ponder, a curse for me or for you? I have had strangers ask if they can touch it, and I’ve had strangers not ask and touch it anyway. Women have glared at me in restrooms while others gush about how they envy it. I’ve been asked if it is hard work which I coyly respond, “No, it’s actually pretty low maintenance.” People want to know which products I use and how much, how often I shampoo and condition. I have written step by step instructions for waitresses while I am out to breakfast. They want to know how I brush it (I don’t own a brush), if I blow dry it (I don’t own one of those either), and how much I hated it when I was little (not at all).

Many are shocked to hear that I grew up liking my hair. Actually, until I hit middle school I never paid much attention to it. My mother combed it out for me when I got out of the shower, and I wore it in a braid most of the time. Occasionally it would be worn half up/half down for the school play or picture day. My mother never put products in it, and she would brush it out so it looked like a frizzy, puffy, triangle behind my head. In spite of that, I never hated it, but should I have? Was I supposed to hate my curly hair? And what does it say about me that I didn’t? Was I conceited or full of myself? Did it seem as though I was bragging? Should I lie and go along with it saying, “Of course I hated it!”

Kids sitting behind me in class would stick pencils in it to see if I could feel it and how long they could get them to stay in before slipping out. One woman asked if I ever considered relaxing it, just a little of course, to give it more length. Once, I was told it made me look hard, angry, unapproachable, and intimidating. My hair can do all that?! The rare moments I would straighten it out were always interesting. The reactions were off the charts. I was almost unrecognizable with straight hair. People couldn’t believe how straight it was, how long it was, even how the color changed. They would ask, why would you ever want to get rid of those beautiful curls? Some thought it was permanent, getting judgmental and saying in a snarky tone, I can’t believe you would do that. Then there were the other comments, the ones that stung a little- that looks great, you should wear it like that more often, don’t ever wash it, I like it better this way, you look younger, you look prettier etc. These comments left me perplexed. This wasn’t how I looked naturally. It was like someone saying that I looked better with makeup on. Like, what did you think of me before? Straightening my hair gave me complicated feelings. In a way I felt more confident, partly because I got less attention and didn’t have the looming insecurity of my big curly hair. I looked more normal, like most other girls. I blended in.

Once, on a date someone told me “I love your hair, I think it’s your best feature”. At first I took it like any compliment, I blushed and said thank you with a smile. But, then it sunk in. If my hair is my best feature, what does that say about the rest of me? An old friend of mine told me that her boyfriend said I grabbed the attention of all his friends because of my hair, it made me look exotic, and without it I would be just like any girl- regular, average, nothing special. The first thing I should have done was get rid of the friend (who tells someone that unless they are trying to hurt their feelings). Instead, I chuckled, and silently my insecurity grew. Is that true? Is my hair the best thing about me? Is it all that matters? What if I lost my curl? What would I be then? Bland? Boring? Useless? Unattractive? Just plain Ugly? What if I got cancer and all my hair fell out and grew back in straight? What would I do? Would I ever be found intriguing to anyone ever again if I didn’t have this hair? Would no one ever compliment my smile or my eyes? Does that even matter? Because it doesn’t appear they are noticed now anyway. What about, gasp, my personality?! Am I not funny enough, do I have no sense of humor? Am I not interesting enough? No wit? Nothing? Am I nothing without my hair?

My hair and I went through many phases together. There was the phase of being too insecure about it’s bigness to wear it down. I felt like there was too much of it, drawing too much attention and not in a good way. Like I was walking around with a giant clown wig on, its course wiry curls getting in the faces of people walking by. There was the phase of always wearing it down because I felt like I had to. Like people expected it. Like it was a shame not to. I felt like without it framing my face I was not much to look at. There was too much face for my comfort level. It brought unwanted attention to my nose which was slightly off centered from a break when I was little and my tiny brown eyes. I never felt I was pretty enough. I couldn’t put my best face forward, my hair was the best thing I had. Nobody will ever compliment me if they don’t see my hair, I will be exactly what people have said, boring and unnoticeable.

There were times when the compliments were too much and I wanted to hide my hair and then there were moments when I felt incredibly dependent on those compliments. Without them my self esteem plummeted. I was starting to develop a bit of a complex- a love/hate relationship with my hair. The hair that, for the most part, I always loved. And, not because other people loved it, but because I genuinely loved it. It was a part of me, like a limb. My hair fit me, it fit my personality. I wanted to love my hair but I didn’t want to depend on it to feel better about myself.

The older I get, the less entangled I get with my hair. It has taken on a more fitting, proper role. It is just my hair. I wear it up in a big puff ball on top of my head, tendrils falling down on my forehead like bangs. I play around with it more, brushing out the curls in a deliberate frizzy mane. I manipulate the curls into more of a wave for a nice change. I part it down the middle flattening out the top and drawing more attention to my prominent nose for a different silhouette. I let it get really big, the bigger the better, without worrying It will get in someone’s way or block their view at the movie theatre. I coil it up into a tight bun, I braid it. I cover it up entirely with a scarf. I do whatever I am in the mood to do on that particular day and I let it have no lengthy effect on me. It makes me no prettier and no uglier. It makes me no more confident or insecure. It makes me no less approachable or intimidating. I am not funnier with it or more serious. It does not make me sexy or plain. It makes me no more or less worthy of your attention. It makes me no more of myself or less of myself.


Once in a while

Every once in a while
I get the urge to be ugly
To shave my head
They say it’s my face
My hair makes it look angry
Every once in a while
I get the urge to be ugly
To be hard, to be edgy
I want scars on this skin
I want ink on my body
Someone said it was my best feature
Someone said I should smooth it out
Be careful what you ask for, it is longer than yours
Is it too big for you
Is it too frizzy for you
Does it scare you
That I am not like you
Is it too chaotic around my small, almond eyes
They see you
You see me coming from a mile away

Every once in a while
I get the urge to be ugly
To stop trying to be pretty
I am too clean
To small
I need meat on these bones
This body is getting smaller
Edges where curves should be
Am I waisting away
I have to let out my desires
Set them free from these cages
Set them free
I have this urge to be ugly
Because that’s what I am
When I am not trying to be beautiful
What is beauty anyway
This hair is my perfect
This hair is my flaw
This hair is my child
I am tending to it all the time

I am not my hair
I am the knot at the nape of my neck
Do I have a face
Is there someone awake inside me
Every once in awhile
I have the urge to be ugly
To check the “other” box
I am female
I am sexy
I am beautiful
I am hard
I am too thin
I am too independent
I am too inward
I am not poetic enough
I need more
Education
I need more
Words
I need more
Tools
I need more
Metaphors
I need more

I am my hair
I am wild
I am messy
I am going In different directions
I am loud like the volume
As singular as the tightly wound curl
I am stretching
When you pull me
I bounce back
Cut me
I will grow
Wash me
I am clean
Try to tame me
I will fight it

I am not commanding your attention
I am demanding, look away
I am not my hair
Picture me
Bald
Every once in a while