Dear middle-aged mom,
I know what your intentions were. You wanted to keep your precious child protected from what could’ve been a disaster. You didn’t want your angel to see a man in the women’s restroom because you were afraid of what could have come about. You were afraid that maybe it was some flasher, kidnapper, or peeper. With the way society is today, I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a man in the women’s bathroom. I understand your concern when you said, “excuse me, this is the women’s restroom” and I understand the way you reacted when I responded with, “yes. I know. I am a woman.” (Other words were exchanged, but I would like to keep it G.) But if there is one thing that bothers me the most it is that you didn’t take the time to actually look at me and decided whether or not I am actually a woman, you just saw the length of my hair. If you were to take the time to look at me as a whole human, you would have seen the bright pink Norts and the Delta Phi Epsilon sorority t-shirt that I was wearing. You would have also seen that my toes were painted bright orange.
If I could have had more than 3 seconds with you, I would have liked to sit you down and explain why having short hair doesn’t automatically make me a boy, or even look like a boy for that matter. It also doesn’t mean I am gay either. You need to realize why people do things the way they do. So here, let me explain why I have short hair.
Right before I went into the 5th grade we had gotten a new kid in the neighborhood. He was a few years older than me and one of the most attractive guys I had ever seen. We instantly became best friends. He was in a wheelchair, so most of our time was spent indoors or just playing basketball in the driveway. Later on I had come to find out that he was confined to a wheelchair because of cancer. When I was about to enter into my freshman year of high school, he had passed away. The cancer had gotten too aggressive and he was unable to make it. When I was a senior in high school, on his four-year death anniversary, I decided to cut off all my hair. I donated over ten inches to Locks of Love and had never felt better about myself. I felt like I was doing the right thing for a right cause. And now, two years later, I have found a style that works for me and I could not be more in love with who I am as a person but because of suburban mothers like you, I am unable to enjoy it.
You see, you aren’t just protecting your child from what could’ve been a disaster. You are also telling your child that they should judge someone by their appearance. You let your child see that freedom of expression is not something that they will have access to and that doing anything other than “normal” is unacceptable.
I get it. I am a millennial. We do things a little differently and we act in a completely different way. But please, do not stand there and tell me I look like a man when you cannot take 3 seconds to look see me and realize that I am, in fact, a woman. You, ma’am, were in the wrong.
Sincerely,
Rachael, the girl with the short hair
