Overcoming My Own Stereotypes
With my first book on tour, this blog has been focusing a
lot on what’s been happening out in the world lately. And while I love sharing
my exciting news and events with you, my dear readers, I have also been feeling
like it’s time to reflect on where I’m at with this journey of living the life
I imagined.
For the past several months, I have been dreaming about
cutting my hair. Buzzing it all off, to be exact. Why? Because I’m tired of
spending time and money on something that doesn’t hold much value to me. Time
spent brushing it, blow-drying it, and styling it. Money spent getting it
professionally cut.
If these seem like trivial concerns, please acquaint
yourself with this startling statistic: Hillary Clinton spent about
600 hours getting her hair and makeup done during the 2016 presidential campaign. That
adds up to 25 days! Nearly an
entire
month! Considering the important work that a president does, it doesn't matter to me if she looked disshevled or perfectly styled. I would have supported her being able to spend that time developing brilliant policies instead.
Now I don’t spend anywhere near that amount of time on hair
or makeup, but I have spent way more time and money on my physical appearance
over the course of my career than I’ve actually wanted to. When I was an
attorney, I used to wear makeup and either curl or flatiron my hair, and I had
a boss tell me once that I needed to “sparkle” more. Many of the women in that
firm got their hair and nails professionally done on a regular basis and walked
around in heels, all of which are not really things I’ve ever been that
interested in. I remember thinking that I’d understand his request if I were
modeling or something, but for god’s sake, I was an attorney. Even though I
upped my “sparkle” at that job, underneath it all, I really resented having to
do it. I told my husband that if I ever needed an attorney for something, I’d
rather have a wicked smart one than a sparkly one.
So, back to my haircut. Long hair annoys me when I work out.
I have to pull it back in a ponytail when I run or lift weights, but then that
same ponytail gets in my way when I lay down on my yoga mat to do ab work—the
bump on the back of my head just doesn’t feel good.
And I’ve always cared more about how I feel than how I look.
But I’ve held back on buzzing my hair out of fear. Mostly fear that I wouldn’t
look professional enough, but also fear that people would make assumptions
about me that weren’t true. Perhaps they would think I was a man. Maybe they’d
think I was gay. Or they could assume that I had cancer. Once I let those
thoughts out of my head, I realized that they weren’t insurmountable. I’m okay
if someone sees me and thinks I’m a man. We are, after all, from the same
species. But sometimes we forget and assume that for a woman to be mistaken for
a man is a horrible insult, that it means she is less beautiful and therefore
less valuable. But that’s only true if you assume that women’s value comes from
their beauty. And frankly, I think that, as humans, our intelligence, compassion,
humor, kindness, creativity, and even productivity are much more valuable than
our beauty. Plus, men and women are quite similar actually. Now if you mistake
me for an alligator or a parakeet, I’m going to be concerned. But a man? I can
live with that.
So I started in stages. I got a short bob last fall. Then I
got a pixie cut a few weeks ago, but returned a week later to explain to the
hairdresser that when I said, “Short,” I really meant it. And you know what
amazed me the most? How many famous women have already done what it took me
months to do. When I Googled pictures of a short haircut to show my
hairdresser, I found tons of actresses with
super short hair. And the reaction
from people I know has been completely positive. Most people say they like how
it looks, and some people say they wish they were that brave to cut their hair
so short. Not a single person told me I looked unprofessional. Maybe strangers
who saw me made assumptions about me. Maybe not. Either way, I’m okay with
that.
What I learned is that I was carrying around my own
assumptions, and then letting those assumptions limit my actions. My fears
tried to masquerade as reasonable concerns about whether I would be valued by
other people, when in fact, they were simply my own stereotypes. My own stereotypes. Not anyone else’s.
Just my own. And now that I’ve recognized that, I can let them go. My identity,
my value as a human being is much broader than the limitations my fear attempted
to place on me.
Next up? Once it grows too long for me, I’m going to shave
it. And, honestly, I can’t believe it took me so long to get up the courage. It’s
just hair, after all. The value of my services, the way I help clients see their writing or their life in a new way, my dependability, and the way I interact with
clients—how I give them my full attention, and speak to them respectfully and
encouragingly—well, all of that reflects my
professionalism way more than any haircut ever could.
Oh, and for all of you who still need a little hint at what
I’ve been producing and working on, here’s a glimpse of me in the recording
booth doing a recording session for
Sophie and Spot. I’ve recorded half of the book already, and have just started
learning how to edit. Pro tip: don’t stop editing in the middle of a file. Or
if you do, write down where you ended, because when you come back to it later,
you’re probably not going to remember where you left off and you’ll have to do
the whole thing over again.
