Quick Thought: A Fear of Change

I was just watching a Mr. Kate video¬†where Kate was getting a blow-out, and her hair looked so good. Her hair is a just slightly lighter than mine, and slightly shorter. The major difference is that she does not have bangs, and I do. So as I’m checking out her video, I kept thinking that I should grow my bangs out again. It’s been a few years since I’ve been without bangs. Plus, they’re already long enough that I can pin them aside, so it won’t be a super long process.

Immediately though I could hear my mom saying, “But I like your bangs!” And then I told my friend Jessica, and she said the same thing. And then I started to wonder if I would feel as cute without bangs, and whether my face would look too big or my forehead would be too shiny, and it was all down the rabbit hole from there.

I’ve always been jealous of the women who cut and dye and style their hair with wild abandon. I’ve been thinking about chopping my hair into a long bob (a “lob” for those of you in the know), but when I brought it up to my mom and her friend recently, they both shot down the idea. “You have mermaid hair!” Okay, yeah, but even a mermaid has to get tired of brushing out this mane all of the time.

The reason I don’t just take the plunge is overwhelming fear. For me, my hair is one of my signature features. A lot of my self-worth is bound up in my hair’s appearance. So what if I chop it all off, and then I hate it, and I feel that I look like a wookie?? Yes, my hair will grow back, but that doesn’t happen overnight! Even dying my hair – I was a redhead from 13 to 30, and then I bleached my hair, and I’ve been a dirty blonde ever since. Every now and then I think it might be nice to see how my hair would look in a rich chocolate brown. But if I hate it, and I try to bleach it back, I won’t immediately be able to achieve my current color, and I could really damage my hair.

This is supposed to be my year of fearing less. And in a lot of ways, it has been. I’ve added temporary pink, purple, and turquoise color to my hair throughout the year so far, and I like it. That’s a huge deal for me; I never played with crazy colors before. But a more permanent change just feels really scary. And I don’t know how to have less fear about that.

– Finch

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Ugh

I honestly don’t have the time or energy to fill you in on the backstory of everything that’s been going on, but, suffice it to say, Jay and I were dating last spring, and I ended things because he was completely objectifying me and making me feel like I was nothing more than a pair of legs. A few weeks ago, he reached out to me, and I kind of blew him off. I felt bad for that (what am I, Jewish, with all this guilt??), so I reached out to him yesterday. We texted a bit and made plans for grabbing lunch this weekend.

Tonight, we were texting again when he straight up, out of nowhere asked if I had enjoyed the way we were having sex the last time we were dating (those whole 2 times in 6 weeks of dating). I was completely stunned. Like, unable to coherently think, stunned. Um, I’m sorry, we literally have not had voice to voice contact, nor have we seen each other since we broke up, but you’re already objectifying me and treating me like I am your sexbot??

I had brunch with T last weekend, and during lunch I was bemoaning the idea that I might never be with anyone again, since I didn’t think they would ever find me attractive. She was absolutely shocked. “I can’t even believe that you see yourself as anything less than gorgeous,” she said. “I mean, I just don’t understand how you see yourself as unattractive in any way, shape, or form. It’s as ridiculous as saying that the sun appears black to you all the time.” That was the third such conversation I had had recently with friends about my fears that I am not attractive enough to get a guy. I’ve even said that I absolutely do not fear that I am not smart enough or funny enough – for me, it all hinges on my attractiveness.

So really, why should I be surprised when the only guy I’ve opened up to in the last two years (since my divorce) treats me as purely a physical object, based only off my attractiveness? I’ve placed so much emphasis on wanting to be attractive to guys, so I have clearly attracted what I wanted, right?

I can not even begin to describe how disgusted I felt when Jay made that comment tonight. Like I wasn’t worthy of being wooed or won back or even spoken to appropriately – no, he’s here for my “hot legs and ass” so what more could I expect?

I’ve been trying to accept people as they are, and not project my own expectations and desires onto them. I really thought that I could do that with Jay. Okay, he’s a bit shallow and narcissistic, but we have great sex, so I just need to keep my feelings separate. You know what? When someone is so blatantly disregarding of my feelings, I can’t help but take it personally. I told him off, and ended the conversation, and I don’t plan on honoring our lunch plans.

But I’m not sorry that I reached out. Because this was clearly something I needed to learn, and maybe this was the only way I could learn it. If you continually put out into the Universe that you want to be valued for your body/looks, the Universe will give you that! The Universe will say, “Okay, you have no questions about your intelligence or compassion or humor, so here’s a guy who values you for nothing more than your body. That’s what you wanted, right?? For someone to validate your looks, and only your looks??” I get it now. Like a “Eureka” moment, I get it now.

Yes, I want someone to find me beautiful, but I want them to find ME beautiful – not just my body, or my smile, or my intelligence, or my witty comebacks – ME, the entirety of me. I want someone who wants the entire package of who I am. If someone can’t see past my looks to the greatness of me, than why would I want them in my life? Those are not people that I would be able to talk with until sunrise, debate why the Jedi were not as smart as they liked to think they were, cook new meals with, walk around downtown and rediscover our city, read books to, cheer at football games with. Those are people who only value my shell. And I can no longer tolerate those people.

– Finch

I’m sort of the opposite of a serial-monogamist

Another Sunday, another OKcupid date. This one didn’t leave me wanting to dig my eyes out with a sharp stick, although I did go home and pass out for two hours. Let me explain…

We met up at two, but the bar he had picked was closed. We convened at another bar, got some drinks, and proceeded to start talking. We actually had a lot of fun. So much fun, in fact, that I had four beers on an empty stomach (I wanted to look extra thin for the date – no judging!!), all in the course of about two and a half hours. I literally lost track of the time. When I got back to my car and saw that it was 5 (and I had previously told this guy that I had other plans at 6), I was shocked. I had not thought that we had hung out that long. So yes, I stopped at Maudie’s, got some insanely good breakfast tacos, and then went home and passed out until about 8. I’m too old for this!

The date was certainly fun, and even if I never hear from him again, he gave me a great piece of information. We were talking about our past OKC experiences, and he said, “I’m sort of the opposite of a serial-monogamist. You know, so many of my friends can’t go five minutes without dating someone, but I’ve only had one serious relationship in my adult life. The rest of the time, I date a little here and there, but mostly, I’m happier when I’m single.” PEOPLE! This is literally me!!! I’ve only had one serious relationship in my adult life (okay, or maybe two – Tripp and Ex). I will date for a couple of months here and there and then be single for a year or more. I stated all of this to him, and told him, “I thought I was the only one.” He replied that nope, there were plenty of us out there.

And here’s why that is so important to me. I live under a constant fear that I will never be with anyone ever again, that I will never fall in love again, and that there is something seriously wrong with me because I don’t constantly have a boyfriend. However, this guy gave me this nugget of truth that I am not terminally unique, and that it is perfectly normal to find more happiness and contentment in your own company rather than in a relationship. Don’t get me wrong, I love being unique and one of a kind, but it truly sways my fears to know that there are other people out there like me in this regard.

As for the guy himself – I don’t know. That’s not true – I do know, but it’s a scary feeling. He was cute, incredibly smart, had similar interests, and was really great. But I just can’t picture anything with him. Okay, yes, I can picture some drunken sex with him, but that’s not exactly the basis of a relationship. I think there’s someone out there who is a better fit, and it will be difficult to find him if I spend my time with someone I’m not crazy about (and sure, feelings could grow, but there are other factors there that I don’t want to get into of why I won’t be pursuing this). So, my Sunday Date, thank you for a lovely time, and showing me that four beers is way past my limit when I haven’t eaten anything, but most especially for showing me that I am not damaged and that there is hope for me yet.

– Finch