A couple of years ago a male homosexual friend of a friend of mine said to me, blatantly ignorant of any idea who I actually was or of my sexual preference, "You would make a great lesbian". I was surprised by the statement, not only because of it's boldness (we'd only just met and I didn't even know his name yet) but because of it's content. I would... "make a great lesbian"? What exactly makes a great lesbian?
He went on flippantly stating that he while he was "absolutely gay" he was also attracted to me, which is why he thought I would be more than a perfect fit for the lesbian community. "You have a man's haircut and you're dressed sort of masculine so I just sort of figured..." he trailed off before showing us his driver's license featuring a much heavier version of himself, instantly changing the subject to how he had lost 100 pounds by eating a bowl of Special K a day.
While they spoke, I started to evaluate my appearance. I was wearing a pair of skinny jeans, some chucks, a graphic t-shirt and an old, khaki green hooded sweatshirt my ex-boyfriend had gifted me. I had recently asked for a pixie cut à la Anne Hathaway at the salon, so yes, my hair was non-typically short for a nineteen year old female college freshman living in South Alabama and sure, I wasn't dressed particularly feminine... but I was still unsure how my appearance would have anything to do with what gender I was or was not attracted to.
A couple of days later I debuted my new haircut to a bible study group I had been attending. I was approached in the kitchen by a smaller group of "friends" while I was chatting about my week with one of the adults in charge.
"Why would you cut your hair?" one of them said.
"Yeah, I'm not very happy about it." a boy who I had a (now regrettable) crush on said.
"I thought you were a boy when you got out of your car." another snickered.
The adult stayed surprisingly quiet, which I interpreted as her agreement with my peers, while I tripped over words and eventually squeaked out a super solid, "I don't know."
And so I grew my hair out.
It's something I sort of regret doing now that I realize why I did it. I loved my short hair. It made me feel spunky and sort of like (a much more lethargic) Selina Kyle. I liked styling it in a floppy quiff because I thought it looked edgy and also kind of like a 2013-era Louis Tomlinson. I really liked the way I looked... until I didn't anymore. The weird (and sometimes straight up rude) comments that peers and strangers thrust upon me made me hate my hair and feel more than a little uncomfortable in my skin. I became perpetually self-conscious about how I looked, always wary of how I dressed or did my makeup or
the posture I had when I sat down. It was rough and I was never happy. I was anxious and angry and sad and I remember crying more than once about my "boyish" haircut as I waited impatiently for it to grow to a socially acceptable, feminine length.
It's been years since then and I can safely assure you that your haircut does not define you much in the same way
your weight does not define you. These are outward appearances and shallow representations of who you are as a person. A non-typical haircut does not determine whether you are a homosexual, a heterosexual, a man, a woman, a drug dealer, a mom, etc. It's incredibly narrow minded to think that it does.
It should also be kept in mind that another person's appearance is not really any of your business. Someone's personal style is something that they feel comfortable in and being critical of their favorite shirt or their space buns is not going to make you a better person. You are not the authority on style in other people's lives. Unless they ask for your opinion on their oversized boyfriend jeans or Ugg boots or crop top, it's probably best to keep your thoughts to yourself.
Stereotypes exist for a reason but it's so important that you don't judge a person based on the way that they look. Actions speak far louder than haircuts and it's nice to be nice.
xx Anna
