personal essay project
|I am having a very strange adverse reaction to something very small that was done by my husband. He is equally surprised by my reaction as I am, and can't even begin to understand. If I am being honest I don't really get it either.
All he did was cut off his beard. That's it. Nothing major - no homicides bringing detectives to my door. After all we know why and who killed the beard.
Now don't get me wrong. I am not into controlling my husband. Not at all. Okay - but don't get that wrong either - I do…..manipulate….situations to inspire him to WANT to do what I want. It's called being with him for 17 years and knowing how to make the balance of our relationship work. Ya' know - like when he offers a "back rub" and I say yes to get the massage even though I know his penis has an ulterior motive.
And on the same note - I do not let him tell me what to make my body look like. And definitely not my hair. I do ask him what he prefers but that does not stop me from doing whatever I want. I have gone from below shoulder blades straight to 1" spikes all over my head. Every length in between and every style. Bobs, asymmetrical, straight, curly, and every color under the sun. Every so often I ask what he likes better and I do that for him, but when I want to change it I do. I am an emotional cutter. Even when he hates it - and statistically there must be tons of times when he does, he never says a single bad word or expresses a petty opinion. But it doesn’t matter to me if he is in love with my hair or not. And I don't want it to matter to me what he does either - I truly don’t.
But goddamn it - it does. I am surprised that it bothers me. I DO love my husband no matter what he weighs, how he dresses, or what he does with his hair - but I also loved his beard more than I thought. I actually wanted to cry a little. And not being able to do that without looking like a total fool I chose instead to voice my opinion once then subtly imply my continuing displeasure. Not a less foolish way.
Now, two days later, I find I still want to bring it up. I still want him to know I am unhappy with his shaving it. It's a beard for fuck's sake. It will take no time at all to grow back, yet for some reason I feel like growing it back is akin to telling a sad child you will replace their dead puppy. Disproportionate response on my part? I'd say so. Part of me wants to go on strike and become all…bushy and overgrown, just to be able to get a petty 'ha!' out there into the conversation. Yet, I know that he doesn't care. He would grab his machete and go on a jungle expedition before he'd say "No thank you." And I don't shave any part of my body FOR him anyway. I do it for me. I do it so I don't rub a layer of cotton off of my bed sheets with my sandpaper legs. I do it so my armpits don't itch and so it doesn't look like I have a small critter in my panties. So that wouldn't even work. Goddamn that unconditional love shit.
As far as basic me behavior goes, this is pretty far on the girly chick move spectrum. I can be girly, but typically I am not. And I don't even have a way to wrap this essay up that brings everything together neatly. I have had no revelation - I still want the beard back. I know not to act like a baby but - I want the beard back. I can't even say anything else…….
I WANT THE BEARD BACK.