I was living with 5 or 6 others in a big, beautiful beach house. It had a wide balcony on the beach side with sliding glass doors, so the entire views was just a strip of yellow sand and the glassy, shuffling Atlantic Ocean. Tranquil and inspiring. The house had been retro-fitted for communal living. There were only two bathrooms, but they each had several showers, so people would all go in together and talk and bond. There was a lot of love between everyone.
I was in a silent, introspective mood. I waited until everyone was finished before I took my shower, though, there would have been enough room for me. I went in and started playing with some electric clippers. I was thinking about trimming my leg hair (its probably been almost a year since I’ve shaved it, in reality). It’s not a practical thing to do, in that the beauty really comes from how full and natural the hair looks. If you trim it, it can look thin, blunt, and sporadic.
I played between two different settings, one a much closer cut than the other. I took the wider guard, first, up the length of my right calf, and noticed how dark and stubbed it seemed. I completed the trim around my entire lower leg. I thought that maybe if I went shorter it would look nicer. So, I removed the guard and trimmed away the rest. It looked a little nicer, but it felt sharp and abrasive. Not cute. Definitely not sexy. I immediately missed my hair, and regretted the decision to remove it. What was I thinking so deeply about, that I felt this physical change was a solution? Maybe I was actually feeling left out in the house. Maybe I wanted more attention. Maybe I wanted attraction.