I’ve been pondering a fair bit how we become attached to what is familiar and that can be self perpetuating even when maladaptive
for years i’ve said “we become addicted to our pain”
sure it hurts, but it’s so FAMILIAR
I’ve got a friend with a biblical beard and in his case it’s pretty clear to me that part of it is wanting to challenge people…oh if you can get past the beard, kind of thing
my current facial hair journey is a mustache.
oh the kids can wear them unironically, they weren’t alive in the 70s
but for me?
the first time i took it out it was in no small part because it made me uncomfortable
now I’m enjoying it because it’s a disguise
“oh this isn’t the real me, who will I be when I’m wearing it?”
familiarity can acquire a strange authority simply because we’ve lived with it long enough.....
What surprised me was how quickly that authority collapsed once I started cutting. First the mustache got trimmed. Then the Fu Manchu went. Then the sideburns that had somehow begun colonizing my ears. Finally, the braid (which I thought was coooool!)
... as soon as I started, none of it felt important anymore.
Apparently the sacredness of a long beard is highly sensitive to scissors.
Maybe that’s the real danger of attachment: before the first cut, it feels like identity. After the first cut, it can suddenly look a lot like maintenance.
I like the mustache-as-disguise idea too. “Who am I wearing today?” vs “Who must I remain because I’ve already invested this much hair in it?” ha
Enjoy the experiment. And if it starts developing its own opinions, dietary preferences, or territorial claims over your upper lip, you’ll know where this road leads.
I had a remarkably similar experience around 1989. For me, the question was, "do I want people to be reacting to 'this strange guy with a long beard' or do I want to be close enough to societal norms for people to be interested in me as a person?" The latter won out, when 3 people totally independently raised the matter.
Fitting in has never come especially naturally to me, and I think looking visibly different sometimes made my less-visible differences easier to navigate. At least people had an obvious explanation for why I seemed a little unusual.
There’s something oddly convenient about giving people a beard to blame.
So I’m not sure the goal was ever really to fit in. Maybe just to remove one unnecessary layer between me and everyone else.
That said, I can now kiss and eat soup like a civilian again, which is a powerful argument for conformity.
congratulations! 🥳
best MIL line ever indeed.
I’ve been pondering a fair bit how we become attached to what is familiar and that can be self perpetuating even when maladaptive
for years i’ve said “we become addicted to our pain”
sure it hurts, but it’s so FAMILIAR
I’ve got a friend with a biblical beard and in his case it’s pretty clear to me that part of it is wanting to challenge people…oh if you can get past the beard, kind of thing
my current facial hair journey is a mustache.
oh the kids can wear them unironically, they weren’t alive in the 70s
but for me?
the first time i took it out it was in no small part because it made me uncomfortable
now I’m enjoying it because it’s a disguise
“oh this isn’t the real me, who will I be when I’m wearing it?”
time will tell
enjoy your new freedom
familiarity can acquire a strange authority simply because we’ve lived with it long enough.....
What surprised me was how quickly that authority collapsed once I started cutting. First the mustache got trimmed. Then the Fu Manchu went. Then the sideburns that had somehow begun colonizing my ears. Finally, the braid (which I thought was coooool!)
... as soon as I started, none of it felt important anymore.
Apparently the sacredness of a long beard is highly sensitive to scissors.
Maybe that’s the real danger of attachment: before the first cut, it feels like identity. After the first cut, it can suddenly look a lot like maintenance.
I like the mustache-as-disguise idea too. “Who am I wearing today?” vs “Who must I remain because I’ve already invested this much hair in it?” ha
Enjoy the experiment. And if it starts developing its own opinions, dietary preferences, or territorial claims over your upper lip, you’ll know where this road leads.
I had a remarkably similar experience around 1989. For me, the question was, "do I want people to be reacting to 'this strange guy with a long beard' or do I want to be close enough to societal norms for people to be interested in me as a person?" The latter won out, when 3 people totally independently raised the matter.
though I'm still not sure if I don't regret cutting my long hair after college to 'fit in'...it certainly didn't work...
Fitting in has never come especially naturally to me, and I think looking visibly different sometimes made my less-visible differences easier to navigate. At least people had an obvious explanation for why I seemed a little unusual.
There’s something oddly convenient about giving people a beard to blame.
So I’m not sure the goal was ever really to fit in. Maybe just to remove one unnecessary layer between me and everyone else.
That said, I can now kiss and eat soup like a civilian again, which is a powerful argument for conformity.
well, not necessarily an argument for conformity! but perhaps for removing no longer useful inconvenience.
as someone who spends a lot of time making videos no one really watches, i’ve been thinking a lot about the things we choose for their own sake.
like baking bread, or all the important things we wouldn’t dream of outsourcing.
i *might* let the robot do some vacuuming but it’s not going to hold the baby.