Yesterday a friend of mine did a terribly brave and frightening thing and stripped all the dye out of her hair, going back to her natural color. She’s been coloring her hair for more than twenty years so this was a big deal because her natural color was now grey. And grey, no matter how pretty, has all sorts of baggage that comes with it, good and bad.
This was not a decision she made lightly. No, this has been years of dialog, months of discussions, many lists of pros and cons, pictures and articles of people who have made the choice, tons of research into the best products to use… because, hair is a big deal. It doesn’t mater if you’re black or white, male or female, hair can and often does define you. How many of us have had a good day on a bad hair day? Even my mother, who has always said she didn’t care about her hair, was traumatized when she lost it due to chemo. Because hair is a big fucking deal!
So my friend spends yesterday getting her hair stripped and with each layer, she gets more and more unsure of the end result. It’s hard to feel confident as you’re sitting in a chair watching the hairdresser concoct potions of purple goo to slather on your head. But after hours of uncertainty, and several layers of goo and washing and cutting and blow drying she’s done and it’s great. She looks fantastic. She feels fantastic. She can’t stop smiling. She puts a picture up on Facebook of her new look – no text, just a picture - and people compliment and flatter and gush.
Except for this one shit of a woman, who I’m going to call Shit of a Woman, because that is what she is. This Shit of a Woman. puts up this comment. “I’m sorry, I don’t care for it. However you are beautiful. I’m just being honest.”
Yeah, no. You’re just being an asshole.
Didn’t anyone ever tell you, if you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say anything at all? Or did you forget that behind the safety of your screen? My friend didn’t ask for you comments. Sure, she put a picture up and sure that is opening her up to comments but she didn’t say to you, “Hey, Shit of a Woman. What do you think?” She didn’t say, “I really want you to be honest and tell me how you feel.” She didn’t say, “Read through all the concerns I’ve had about this change, wait for the picture and then tell me you’re sorry and say the meanest thing you can.” You don’t “care for it”? Well, then, don’t “like” it and don’t say anything at all!
Shit of a Woman is not a friend. Shit is not even a nice human being. Shit of a Woman deserves a punch in the nose.
Now I’m not saying Shit of a Woman had to lie. Real friends don’t lie. They cushion their truths so they don’t make you bleed but a real friend will not lie. Shit of a Woman is not a real friend. She didn’t have to give her asshole opinion at all. And she sure didn’t have to put it out there for all to see. She could have told her husband or her kids or friends she didn’t care for it. She could have written it in her diary. Heck, she actually could have told my friend to her face IF my friend had asked her for an honest opinion but to put it out there in a comments section, well, that makes you a SHIT!
Husband worked with a white dude years ago that had a massive drinking problem. And one day, sober or not, we’re unsure, he went into the HR department and told the Indian HR guy what he thought of him. But, he prefaced every single inappropriate and very racist thought with the caveat “Off the record here…”
“Off the record” and “I’m just being honest” are not magic capes that excuse good manners. They’re just the swords of the mean. And you, Shit of a Woman, are just plain mean.
My name is ej. I'm a girl. I say that because with the short hair and the short initials, folks aren't always sure. More brilliant insights to who I am in About me