Behind these brown eyes…or why a dyke-y haircut isn’t going to make me feel better

Most people who know me think that I’m a pretty happy-go-lucky person.  And I am.  Until I’m not.  I laugh a lot.  I make jokes.  I laugh at other people's jokes.  I go out of town to cheer for people doing races.  I stay in town and cheer for people doing races.  I encourage.  I applaud.  I quietly break down.

Lately, I’ve really been struggling.  I hate my job.  Let me repeat that.  I HATE MY JOB!!!!!  I loathe it.  I abhor it.  I detest it.  For so many reasons, none of which I’ll go into here (but could be persuaded to over a glass of wine), this isn’t the place that I should be working.

But I am.  Because the money is pretty good.  At least, it’s good for my position.  Which is a secretary.  A job for which I am grossly overqualified.  Which sounds snobby.  And I don’t mean it to.  I think there’s nothing wrong with secretaries.  I think it’s a perfectly respectable profession. However, after graduating from law school and passing the Maryland Bar exam, this is not how I imagined my life.

But I’m here because I’m complacent.  And it’s scary to think of trying something new.  Because the unknown is so vast and unpredictable.  Here, I know I’ll be supporting a jerk, working with a few fellow secretaries that make me want to punch them in the throat, and generally being unchallenged.  And I’m tired of it.  I’m tired of having morons tell me what to do.

I’m tired of having no power and no say in my “career.”  I’m tired of being embarrassed when the inevitable DC question of “So, what do you do?” comes up.  I want to be able to proudly say what it is that I do.  What I want to do is plan events, especially weddings.  But how scary to leave a steady paycheck to do that?

So, instead, I’m preparing to study for the DC Bar exam.  So that I can have more career options.

Kelsey says I can quit my job.  She’s said it repeatedly in fact, but I don’t trust easily.  She loves me without question.  This I know to the depths of my being.  But I don’t know whether she’ll catch me if I fall.  And I will fall.  Because life is complicated.  And tough.  And surviving on one income is difficult under the best of circumstances.

And I’m scared of the unknown. What if we're supposed to meet at the elevator, but she goes to the escalator instead and we miss each other?  And Kelsey has so many great qualities, but being the take charge person isn’t one of them.  So what if I fall on my butt (which is padded)?  Or on my face (which isn’t)?  I can’t take the risk.  

So, instead, I cry on the subway train.  I deactivate my Facebook account.  I dream of a different life.  Sometimes, I’m single in that life.  Sometimes I’m still with Kelsey.  But always, I’m happier than I am right now.  In this moment.

Other times, like this morning, I go to the hairdresser and get the rest of my hair chopped off.  And then I realize that I look dyke-y.  Which shouldn’t bother me.  Because I’m gay.  But I don’t want to look gay gay.  I hate it.  And the wind is cold on my scalp.  And I’m sad.  And this sucks.