I’ve never quite been sure if it was necessary or not to explain myself when I get called-out by people in Internetland. Living in the public eye is easily as thrilling as tightroping across a Vaseline-coated wire. Someone is always butt-hurt about everything I say or do.
Last weekend I got an email, demanding answers to some things I’d rather not discuss with everyone, but after careful consideration, I think I do need to explain myself.
The email: “I was looking through tons of your old pictures and see that you’re obviously naturally blonde. Why on earth would you dye your hair? And why the heck did you grow it long? Do you not realize everything that says about you as a person?”
I’ll admit. I went into a corner and wept for some time after reading it. The heavy realization that came to me after reading that message was too much.
What have I done? How did I get here? It really does say so much about me as a person.
Forget how creepy and stalkerish it is to go deep into “tons of my old pictures.” Forget how weird it is to demand answers about my personal appearance. Forget that you probably should have capitalized the word “Earth” in your email. Forget all of that because…
Dye my hair.
And as if that wasn’t bad enough, it gets worse. I dye my beard, too. And if that wasn’t bad enough, I let my dyed hair grow nice and long.
It’s all true. And I must answer for that. In my weeping and reflective state, I realized that I must remain accountable to all of you. I must give you answers.
So here goes.
Why do I dye my hair?
I do it because… I like it that way.
Whew, glad I got that off my chest. Now for the really tough one. Why did I grow it out?
I did it because… I felt like it.
Wow, that was downright therapeutic. Whether you can accept that answer or not, I feel better being honest about it.
Oh. Wait. I guess I could have just replied “none of your business” to the sender of the message. Maybe I’ll have that fortitude next time.
Dan Pearce, Single Dad Laughing
PS. If I get a single email asking if the curtains match the drapes, I may just run out of tears. So please don’t do that. I’m a little sensitive about how un-manscaped I am at the moment.