Wednesday, 13 January 2016
My appearance is a tad non standard. I don't follow a fashion, i tend to avoid the high street and i do not care for designer labels. Once upon a higher salary and shallower self, I was excited by Fiorelli or whatever but then I grew as a person.
I'm fond of crazy coloured hair. It's currently blue, turquoise, purple. It's a hair colour. It tells you absolutely nothing about me. You need my personality for that.
I am inked. I don't regret a single tattoo and I never will. Most of my ink has meaning so one could argue that it provides a slight hint at who I am. However my soul isn't decorated. And it is my soul, my actions, my beliefs, my thought processes, my intellect and my connections with others that comprise of who I am.
Sadly though, it is my appearance that I'm judged on. It's my crazy hair, my clothes, and my body decoration that suggest me to others.
To a certain extent, we all have to use a person's appearance to make judgements. I recognise that. But I ask that I'm not categorised as any particular type of person.
I'm extraordinaraly ordinary. I'm a big tea drinker. Chocolate excites me. I'd be lost without music. I sometimes go to gigs and pubs but these days I more likely to hear good music whilst doing mum things or hoovering the stairs.
Im a humanitarian. This isnt just a vague idea. I actually do things to help my fellow human.
If you want me to assist you in distributing food to vulnerable people, I'm in. If you want me to join you for afternoon tea, pass me the scones. If you want me to choose a safe word for some weird sexual practice, then you have just invited me to the twilight zone and I'm not buying. If you think I look exactly like someone who'd enjoy swinging, correct, i enjoy sitting on an actual swing, kicking my legs and recalling my childhood.
I'm just a woman with ever so slightly weird hair and beautiful tattoos.
Here endeth the update.
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