Wednesday, 25 May 2011


I have been pondering about my hair lately. And no, this isn't going to be a post about hair care products or fashion :P

I have long hair, I've pretty much always had long hair since university when long hair on men goes largely without comment and the student pony tail was nearly a uniform among my friends. I would say I've always had long hair but there have been some dramatic cuts over the years that I'll come to. I like men with long hair, I like having long hair. When I don't have long hair I feel like I'm missing something and generally don't like how I look or feel until it's grown out again. I like it, simple as.

Of course, nothing's ever that simple. Because my hair is also my BIG EXCUSE.

See, if someone realises I'm gay, my thinking? “Yeah I'm a guy with long hair – silly straight people and their stereotypes.” Why, I have even described myself as “stereotypically straight”. It's just the HAIR that gives it away.


One moment while I go slap Beloved who just collapsed into howling laughter


Ah I'm back. Of course, I'm also short, slight, not particularly hairy, favour tight clothes and lack “masculine features” like square jaw, cleft chin etc.

Or, as Beloved says, “you're a total twink! Since when is that stereotypically straight?” He has a way with words, my husband does. And a masochistic streak, clearly.

But yes, hair is my excuse. Oh don't get me wrong, I don't go around and everyone around me goes “it's a gay, it's a gay!” but most of my “closeting” behaviours are more about reducing “provocation” (Bah, I need to clean out my mouth) than reducing “identifiers” (I mean, not everyone twigs, that's for certain, but it's very hit and miss and never really certain) because I'm not realistically confident of my ability to do the latter (though it still irritates me when people realise I'm gay before I've done anything overt to let them know. But it's the HAIR!). If that makes any sense at all. It does to me, anyway.

So, anyway, the hair. Yes, the hair was always my excuse to myself – all I had to do was cut it and then I would blend in with straightness like some kind of epic gay ninja. Yes yes, I know, self-delusion is a speciality of mine. Of course, after a moment of badness I have been known to dramatically curse the hair that displays my gayness for all to see (yes, it's all the hair! ALL THE HAIR!) and have a big angsty moment where I have it cut so I can avoid some of the shit... and then feel guilty for hiding (ha) and giving way and being a coward and generally hating myself for folding (as well as not liking the way I look any more).

And of course I get supremely tetchy with family/colleagues/friends/whatever who suggest I cut my hair. Because the long hair is all that stops me from blending in the straight world as the epic gay ninja (ha!) and they're asking me to remove that. And it feels like a demand to hide and closet myself (even when it isn't).

So, I have a fraught relationship with my hair.

So, what does this say? This says that Sparky can angst over ANYTHING. Yes yes it does.

Did I mention I'm still adjusting the pills? Still not sure I likes 'em.