“Masculinity to me used to mean burly and muscular and lumberjack-y—rough on the edges. Now I feel it’s more attractive and ‘manly’ to be clean cut, metro and polished. This overarching theme has shifted over the years, but was so broad and slow I hadn’t thought about it till I *really* thought about it, if that makes sense

“Masculinity to me used to mean burly and muscular and lumberjack-y—rough on the edges. Now I feel it’s more attractive and ‘manly’ to be clean cut, metro and polished. This overarching theme has shifted over the years, but was so broad and slow I hadn’t thought about it till I *really* thought about it, if that makes sense.” #thewordsweuse

“Masculinity to me used to mean burly and muscular and lumberjack-y—rough on the edges. Now I feel it’s more attractive and ‘manly’ to be clean cut, metro and polished. This overarching theme has shifted over the years, but was so broad and slow I hadn’t thought about it till I *really* thought about it, if that makes sense2019-04-19T16:55:29+00:00

It’s weird to peel back layers of identity that we tie to physical attributes. Two years ago, this was the longest my hair had been and likely my longest beard—a week later, it had all fallen out from chemo. That hit me harder than I wanted to admit at the time, but it offered a reminder that we are, in fact, more than our bodies and features. When treatment was over, I marked a fresh start with a hot shave, and I haven’t had more than a light maintenance trim (for either) in the 18-ish months since. Not that I necessarily want to look a certain way, but I have a hard time committing to cutting anything—part of that seems to stem from some deeper desire to get back to what I knew, how I saw myself then, before I could feel fully restored from the whole experience. Two years provides for a lot of healing and perspective, but when it’s quiet, I still feel these memories, especially around the anniversaries of my diagnoses. The body remembers

It’s weird to peel back layers of identity that we tie to physical attributes. Two years ago, this was the longest my hair had been and likely my longest beard—a week later, it had all fallen out from chemo. That hit me harder than I wanted to admit at the time, but it offered a reminder that we are, in fact, more than our bodies and features. When treatment was over, I marked a fresh start with a hot shave, and I haven’t had more than a light maintenance trim (for either) in the 18-ish months since. Not that I necessarily want to look a certain way, but I have a hard time committing to cutting anything—part of that seems to stem from some deeper desire to get back to what I knew, how I saw myself then, before I could feel fully restored from the whole experience. Two years provides for a lot of healing and perspective, but when it’s quiet, I still feel these memories, especially around the anniversaries of my diagnoses. The body remembers. #tbt #cancerselfie #thewordsweuse #enoughofthisletsgofishing

It’s weird to peel back layers of identity that we tie to physical attributes. Two years ago, this was the longest my hair had been and likely my longest beard—a week later, it had all fallen out from chemo. That hit me harder than I wanted to admit at the time, but it offered a reminder that we are, in fact, more than our bodies and features. When treatment was over, I marked a fresh start with a hot shave, and I haven’t had more than a light maintenance trim (for either) in the 18-ish months since. Not that I necessarily want to look a certain way, but I have a hard time committing to cutting anything—part of that seems to stem from some deeper desire to get back to what I knew, how I saw myself then, before I could feel fully restored from the whole experience. Two years provides for a lot of healing and perspective, but when it’s quiet, I still feel these memories, especially around the anniversaries of my diagnoses. The body remembers2019-03-14T15:58:08+00:00

“I want my beardTo be as long asA road,As long as fifteen bussesLined up side by sideTo jump over.How long? As longAs your arm,Ten feet long.I want it to beA truck.I want it toRun over your eyes.I want it so longYou can’t resist.I want it back withJust a few rough places,Veined with grey.I want my beardTo carry your load, hoeA field, towA barge.Let my beard goHome with you.”- Robert Moses, Paris Review, Fall 1983

“I want my beard To be as long as A road, As long as fifteen busses Lined up side by side To jump over. How long? As long As your arm, Ten feet long. I want it to be A truck. I want it to Run over your eyes. I want it so long You can’t resist. I want it back with Just a few rough places, Veined with grey. I want my beard To carry your load, hoe A field, tow A barge. Let my beard go Home with you.” - Robert Moses, Paris Review, Fall 1983 #thewordsweuse

“I want my beardTo be as long asA road,As long as fifteen bussesLined up side by sideTo jump over.How long? As longAs your arm,Ten feet long.I want it to beA truck.I want it toRun over your eyes.I want it so longYou can’t resist.I want it back withJust a few rough places,Veined with grey.I want my beardTo carry your load, hoeA field, towA barge.Let my beard goHome with you.”- Robert Moses, Paris Review, Fall 19832019-03-17T21:00:48+00:00
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