Indeed, being myself is much harder than I thought it’d be.
“I hope you know what you’re doing”, he said in a cold voice. He said it like it is some kind of… I don’t know… curse? Yeah. Curse.
In this case, “I hope you know what you’re doing” actually means “you’re wrong. You shouldn’t have gotten your hair cut like that. You look like a man and that’s bad, I think it’s bad. You and your damn hair are going down and, when you do, I won’t stand by you. I am just going to watch you fail”.
There’s one person who cannot accept someone else. This person is almost hoping the other will fail so they can be right.They’re so ashamed of the other that they can’t even think of supporting the other, even though the other feels better in this particular state which this person hates.
Isn’t it incredible that such short sentences can mean so much? Language is art and elegance is blessing, right? Instead of a huge fight, one can choose just a sentence and let meanings flow. Just like he did.
I feel bad because I did not give an answer. That sentence – and its meanings, of course – hurt me so much I couldn’t even think of something to say. I just sat quietly and said nothing.
Now, I think – what could I possibly have said? “I know exactly what I’m doing, thank you very much”? “Shut up”? “Thank you for all the non-support you’re giving me”? “I’m a grown woman who can choose to do whatever she wants with her hair, who does not need your opinion whatsoever”?
Or I could’ve just left the room in protest.
None of the choices, however, would cause the same feelings that “I hope you know what you’re doing” caused in me. I was abandoned that second. Nothing can change that.
So, what to do now? Should I fight? Should I ignore this situation? Should I give in and wear a lot of feminine stuff just to appear feminine to society? I don’t know.
All I know is that forgiving’s going to be hard, very hard.