Hair...
I'm not able to put into words the last ten days yet. They will come... but not yet. So, I thought I'd try to write something else. Something I've been thinking about. My hair...
When I returned to kindred society several years ago, I'd been cutting my hair in the shortest of little bobs to my chin for several years at that point. It was simply practical. Fast, easy, out of the way. Audra called it adorable, but I knew she thought it was blunt. Too practical. Not feminine. And it wasn't.
I kept cutting it here and there the first few months, but eventually I just stopped. I wasn't really certain why at the time, but I wanted to let it grow. Let it change. Longer, fuller, different. Dynamic. I wanted my hair. So I let it grow. Down to my shoulders, then my shoulder blades, then down my back. Now it's at my waist. I don't straighten it any more. It's a long, curly, frizzy mess. But it's mine. I can cut it if I want, and it would grow back. It's as changing and alive as I am.
If I take the embrace, I'm stuck with it. Especially if I'd cut it. I'd never have long hair again. I'd never change again. I'd be frozen in that body, in that time, for all of eternity. A vampire cannot grow out their hair. And I can. It seems so childishly simple. So foolish. But it's a very real, very cold fact. It speaks to so much more. I want to be able to grow my hair out any time I like until the day they put me in the ground. I want to be able to change.
I know it's not really about the hair. But I don't know how to think about it otherwise. I never was good with introspection.
When I returned to kindred society several years ago, I'd been cutting my hair in the shortest of little bobs to my chin for several years at that point. It was simply practical. Fast, easy, out of the way. Audra called it adorable, but I knew she thought it was blunt. Too practical. Not feminine. And it wasn't.
I kept cutting it here and there the first few months, but eventually I just stopped. I wasn't really certain why at the time, but I wanted to let it grow. Let it change. Longer, fuller, different. Dynamic. I wanted my hair. So I let it grow. Down to my shoulders, then my shoulder blades, then down my back. Now it's at my waist. I don't straighten it any more. It's a long, curly, frizzy mess. But it's mine. I can cut it if I want, and it would grow back. It's as changing and alive as I am.
If I take the embrace, I'm stuck with it. Especially if I'd cut it. I'd never have long hair again. I'd never change again. I'd be frozen in that body, in that time, for all of eternity. A vampire cannot grow out their hair. And I can. It seems so childishly simple. So foolish. But it's a very real, very cold fact. It speaks to so much more. I want to be able to grow my hair out any time I like until the day they put me in the ground. I want to be able to change.
I know it's not really about the hair. But I don't know how to think about it otherwise. I never was good with introspection.