A month ago I made the executive decision that it was time for a change. The summer had brought with it a revelation about who I was and how I wanted my life to be. At the same time, my hair was growing too long for my liking - and go ahead and psychoanalyze this - so I decided to change both my external and internal perspectives. 2 birds. 1 stone.
After days and days of research and scouring the internet and friends for guidance, I decided that I wanted to get my hair style to be a "pixie cut". To me, hair will grow back and a month of embarrassment is worth the experience. I'd never been "brave" enough to get one, and hey, college is the time for trying new things, right? Going to the salon that day was exciting. I'd gone in with shoulder-length hair and left with a whole new persona.
The reaction from others was immediate. Suddenly I was more visible. Barely acquainted with my own reflection, my family and I left the salon and ran the rest of the day's errands. Nearly every store aisle held glances in my direction. "They must know." I thought. "They must know that I feel like a stranger in my own body." In hindsight, they might have been looking for the baked beans behind me, or my constant contact with my short hair distracted them. I've found that people rarely care as much about your appearance as you think they do.
A week passed and I got used to the new routine. 1) Wake up with my hair sticking up in different directions. 2) Wash hair via showering or using the sink. 3) Blow dry hair and style until socially acceptable.
Once I was comfortable with myself again and no longer self-conscious, I carried on with preparing for my move-in back on campus. I kept bracing myself for the inevitable assumption about my gender or sexual orientation. The YouTube videos and blog entries I'd read had warned me that it was "only a matter of time" and that these stereotypes were "part of having a pixie cut". I wasn't that worried. I knew who I was and refused to let others define me.
I thought I was prepared for the reaction I would receive on campus. But I was not. Instead of rude remarks or intrusive speculation about my reasons for my new look I was complimented. Friends and family were really supportive and found the hairstyle complementary to my appearance and personality.
As an anthropology major, I found this entire experience to be an interesting social experiment. Being a generally friendly person, I've always been intrigued by the response I get from smiling at strangers. Since my haircut, I noticed that acquaintances and strangers found it appropriate to comment on my outward appearance. Those who knew me during the awkward Middle School years know that I am not used to this kind of attention. Is there something about a pixie cut that makes me more approachable or seemingly more stylish?
In a predominantly heterosexual and patriarchal society, I shouldn't have been surprised to be receiving more unwanted male attention. But I was. I'm not sure that one can really prepare for the assumption that any effort to look fashionable and "well put together" is for the viewing pleasure of the opposite sex. After living on a city campus for a year, I am well versed in distinguishing between a compliment and harassment. Mainly, the first does not make you feel uncomfortable. Praise is focused on the recipient. Street harassment is only about the person who objectifies others. Their judgments. Their dominance. Their enjoyment.
The same words heard from a friend became perverted and distorted by dishonorable intentions. In that moment, I was not in control. Suddenly, my choices and thoughts about myself were misconstrued as being for the sole pleasure and approval of some stranger. I questioned my attire and what my physical appearance communicated to others. What about me made it okay for that man to look at me that way? The answer is simple: Nothing. It was not okay. And it shouldn't ever be considered okay.
Having had this misfortune happen to me only a handful of times, I grow outraged for the women who suffer these circumstances daily. It's easy to marginalize the recipients of catcalls and unwanted attention as men and women who were "asking for it" or "enjoyed the attention". The majority of you who are reading this post know me and with absolute confidence I can tell you that street harassment is not taken as a compliment. It is demeaning and objectifying.
I urge anyone reading this post to understand how common and repulsive street harassment is. Only by unifying against this objectification of others (women especially) will our society continue toward true gender equality. *gets off of soapbox* Thanks for listening, everyone.
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