I used to be a boy…

Actually, I didn’t.  I did however, make the grave mistake of getting my hair cut as I passed from primary school into high school.  My blonde brown locks were long, curly and lustrous; but I was about to start high school.  I was a woman.  I needed something new; chic.  I was going to look fantastic and on the first day, even the people I knew were going to say “who is that???”

So I sat in a chair while the hairdresser zoomed around on her little stool with wheels and watched the scissors glint in the light as my tresses fell to the floor and shimmered like gold.  At the conclusion of the snipping, I looked in the mirror at the finished product.

I did not look elfin or cute.  I was not a 12 year old Twiggy.  I looked like a boy.

I hated it.  I cried.  The gold was gone.  Now it was boy short and poo brown. I would have thrown a tantrum but who could I yell at?  My mother hadn’t wanted me to get it cut but I had shot down her arguments!  I was traumatised.

Now, for the first time since I was twelve, my hair is short.  Shorter than it was back then.  And I love it.  My face grew into short hair.  it feels fantastic!  And it suits me.  I spent life as a brunette; then when I went blonde, total strangers came up to me with “did you know you look exactly like Deborra-Lee Furness?”  

And it’s funny, because we do have a similar shaped face.  Hell, someone in the bed opposite me when I was having my brain done, told me her son went out to the car to get his ipad to show her who DLF was to prove that I was her.  Now that it is boy short, I get it even more.

I’m not her.  I'm not nearly as glam as her.  I don't have lovely thin calves.  I don’t have some hunky Hugh.  It’s seriously unfair.  Why do I get frogs and she gets princes..?