Short-Haired-Girl, you have boldly chosen the road less traveled. Often mistaken for a lesbian, you alone hold the truth of your sexuality deep in your loins. In middle school, you’d hear the other girls whisper “Is that a boy or a girl?” And high school prom was quite the predicament, as short hair just doesn’t quite fit with a prom dress. So you didn’t go.
If they cut you, do you not bleed?
I have walked in your shoes, Short-Haired-Girl. I have listened to the heartfelt confessions of coworkers who thought that I was a Les solely because of my haircut. My ears have often been numb from being bare in the winter air. I have spent entire mornings lusting after my roommate’s hair elastics.
But I think we can both agree that it is all worth it. Hacking off my hair at 2 o’clock in the morning because I couldn’t sleep was liberating. For those few months I spent as a Short-Haired-Girl, my morning prep time was cut in half. There was also power in the ability to confuse others about my sexuality.
So Short-Haired-Girl, whether you like girls or not, you are beautiful. I have walked the road you travel every day. And I will think of you, Short-Haired-Girl, every time I get a bad haircut.