Or at least reaching for something that's not there. Might have been there at one time, but not anymore.
I've got an appointment to get my hair cut this afternoon. Nobody's forcing me. This is entirely on me. My hair has been one of those "things" for me since I was a kid. Sometimes the most important thing (related to gender). Salon roller sets and updos, fancy braids, layered bob to mid-back. It has always been my thing.
I haven't had a salon roller set in a few years. One reason I haven't is because that last one didn't turn out so well. I thought it exaggerated how thin my hair was getting. This past weekend I had my first solo outing in a few years and tried to cram all my favorite things into it. One of those things was a salon roller set. Wondered if I'd even find a salon that did roller sets, but I did. After a lot of anticipation, the result was quite disappointing. I've reached the end of an era.
At home I've gotten pretty adept at doing my hair in a way that fools the mirror, at least with an optimistic eye. Honestly, I avoid close examination. It's time to face reality... sort of.
So, I'm cutting my hair short. I've had the appointment since Monday morning. Plenty of time to change my mind. I hate it, I've even cried about it, but that's life.
Now, I'm going to be wig shopping like a ... something that really likes wig shopping! Many (most) of you wear wigs, and look fantastic. That's what I'm hoping for because, frankly, I don't look even good with my own hair anymore.
I'm overly optimistic (read: delusional) about my fem appearance anyway. I not only want to look like a woman, I want to look like a young woman. I color my hair (which I'll continue to do) and tend to wear clothes, makeup and jewelry that is really 20 years too young for me. I'm not ready to quit that part of this whole "delusional" thing. I mean, the basis for a whole lot of the crossdressing experience is delusional. I just have to be somewhat reasonable about it.
I don't know when I'll reach that point in my life when I don't occasionally wear an obscenely short skirt. It's a treat for me. Like a decadent desert. I don't do it all the time, nor want to. But sometimes I just love wearing a skirt that barely covers my ass and the highest, thinnest heels I can manage. An afternoon of that is just good for my soul, even if everyone I encounter thinks I'm really reaching. I know I am.
I apologize for this being a rambling post. I'm nervous as hell about the haircut thing. Deep breath.