In recent years I’ve sported a short, asymmetrical ‘do that has kicked ass, jabbed my eyes frequently and led to many un-PC speculations about my sexuality.
It is quite short at the back. Think a brunette Ellen DeGeneres or a female boy. My hairline unfortunately extends a decent few inches below where the hair cut stops in two ragged and hairy tooth shapes, which when left unchecked leave me looking somewhat fur collared. One of the myriad benefits of said haircut is the opportunity to regularly shave my neck. Not only is this good exercise but it also provides a nice tempering to any unlikely aspirations I might have to ever be a real lady.
I didn’t ever stop to think about becoming a woman that shaves her neck when I was younger and much more starry eyed. But there’s a lot that changes when you grow up, and neck trimming it seems is par for the course in response to the life choices I’ve made.
I was at a party on NYE and chatting to a quasi-bearded friend (male). Because I was a few G&T’s in and because my frequent razoring has left me much more attune to the plight of those amply follicled, I mentioned, in what I’m sure was an appropriate moment to do so that I shave my neck. My conversational partner was a little shocked but only, I think, because it was not something he had considered before. He also pressed upon me the importance of blogging about this, as he too was several G&T’s in, and so here we are.
What I find interesting about any of this, because of course it’s patently clear that nothing else is, is that I am often embarrassed to admit to the neck shaving. It’s not really talked about over pizza or the water cooler or the whatever else, because it seems a little embarrassing to admit. And that shits me. I haven’t done anything wrong. I don’t want a hairy neck, because my do requires a certain shape to look like it is supposed to. That I find a hairy neck inherently unfeminine is a problem for another blog- today my beef is with all the crap we are not supposed to discuss.
I have a lovely friend, who after the turn of the year, asked me if I thought it was lame (paraphrasing a bit) that one of their resolutions was to make this year the one where they wound up in some sort of meaningful relationship.
I of course hushed them right up quick smart because to talk openly about one’s desire to find companionship can only mean that one is desperate and one can of course only find said coveted companionship when one is certainly not looking for it and doesn’t want it at all.
Actually I told my friend that they are excellent and brave.
We are often of the understanding that to talk out loud about being lonely, or looking for love is a little bit uncomfortable. Where did this idea come from? I know people who’ve been advised for years that they will find “the one” (please) when we’re “not looking” (honestly).
In a lovely paradox, we are supposed to soldier on happily in our singledom, knowing we’ll scare secret spouses-to-be away if we admit we’ve spotted them skulking in the underbrush, but we can’t ever talk about how happy we find our soldiering.
We are not allowed to say
“I am lonely and I find it entirely shit” but in equal and confusing measure
“perhaps I am super happy alone and get a lot more done”
is also off limits.
Similarly a parent is not supposed to say that sometimes they wish they hadn’t had children so they could play x-box all day.
Maybe it’s just the truth that is uncomfortable.
I am aware that there is often a time and a place for certain conversational topics- I will never, fucking EVER condone the Facebook over-share and I will probably not ever start a conversation with the words “I bleed monthly from my vagina and what do you think about that”- but, I don’t like the mystery and the hoo ha and the connotations that to admit certain things, to utter them out loud is to conjure the lord Voldemort of awkward societal topics. What’s the worst that can happen? Your friends might find out that you get gassy from eating apples? That you took secret pleasure from the getting the black shit out of your nose post-camping? That as much as I pretend to be still fairly keen and am afraid it will make me look like an unfeeling, unwomanly monster, and as much as I adore my nieces and nephews that I remain completely unconvinced that children are a thing I would ever want to grow in my body?
This is how the church ended up being a place where people are uncomfortable and ladies body parts got all the worst curse words.
I demand truth, for goodness sake, and the truth is this.
I am sad sometimes because I am alone. I am happy sometimes because I am alone. I don’t think I want children. I love, LOVE, sitting around and not doing anything. I hate it when you get lyrics to songs wrong. I like unhealthy foods. They taste good. I have kissed a grand total of one boy in my life, but have really wanted to kiss around six or seven. I am sometimes afraid of dying but most often I’m afraid I’ll not live well. Beans have been known to give me gas. I shave my neck sometimes, and bleed monthly from my vagina.
You might like it.
Tempted to put a smiley face here!
Mum you can emote if you really want to.
WOW you TOO have a vagina that bleeds monthly? What ARE the odds?!
I secretly love looking at pregnant women and think that pregnancy is something I would actually like to experience… I covert large breasts, excuses to waddle, being forgetful, stroking a belly full of LIFE rather than wine and cheese, not feeling guilty about doing ‘nothing’ but sitting around gestating and eating, and connecting with that whole mother goddess life giving earthy hippy womanly shit….awesome!
However…. …. Birth I would not…Nor the actual raising of them, I live on the see-saw of do I/dont I want kids. When I’m not near them I think …maybe…when I’m around them for long periods of time I think NEVER!!! (which is the side my husband keeps hoping Ill eventually stay).
I work in higher education, pimp higher education, and have done higher education, even though I don’t BELIEVE in higher education… I just believe it to be the ‘golden key’ needed for some futures…and I want to help people get to that future any way they can.
Apricots and onions are my gas downfall,
I LOVE the feel of a comfortable full brief underwear these days and wonder how I spent so much time in my youth liking no-briefs at all,
I wish I had spend my youth being (and looking) like Lara Croft,
I have kissed MANY more than one boy in my life and though I don’t (ever) regret or apologise for the number, I did often regret the ‘who’ of choice,
I love disappearing into fluff and stupidness of reality shows about rich people (but NEVER the Kardashians! Bethenney on the other hand…)
I feel guilty I don’t do more for charity
I have been emotionally fearless my whole life but I worry that when I die, old and unbroken, that I will regret not being more ‘physically fearless’ for being scared of dying too young, before I had finished everything I was meant to do.
Im scared of dying in general before finishing everything I am meant to do.
Hi, Im Phemie (Michael’s Wrights wife) and its a PLEASURE to meet you!! 😀
Well hi Phemie! You seem to be excellent. Thank you.
P.S. you need a subscription box….I must have your words in my inbox more frequently…. *So much of that sentence sounds so very wrong…
…if you know what I mean…
It is! There is! A subscription bit thingo. I believe. On the left, lower down, but you have to just be in the main site, not an individual post…
you are continually fantastical. truth is I wanna snuggle some babe some evenings and some mornings too but i’m sure I’ll spout some appropriately weak reasonings for why I “ought” not want such a thing. Pfft.
Great blog. BTW, I loved your hairstyle. I didn’t notice that it calls for a shaved neck. I have no problem with neck shaving. I love bare, as in hairfree, legs, underarms and upper lip. I like being alone but I miss sleeping with my husband every night (lately we”re apart a lot.) I love pashing. Love it. I love being a Mum and I wish I could have had more than one child. I’m totally cool with those who choose not to have kids and I ache for those who want to have kids and can’t. (Empathy from my not getting to have a second child.) I love this blog because it shits me how the church historically created a culture where people didn’t feel that they could bring their bodies to worship and be authentic and real. It also shits me how much that still happens. Bless you