Vegetarianism – As Times Go By

I started being a vegetarian when I was sixteen. Well, "a vegetarian"... I had to eat fish (because of my parents – that was their condition). Now I think it was only a way to make myself interesting. I had at least four friends who were vegetarians, my sister became one as well (after me – she was always afraid of "what parents will tell"), and it was sort of a subculture at our high school.
After five years of eating fish and not eating any other meat and proclaiming myself a vegetarian, I started eating all the meat again. It came all of a sudden: I was preparing brochettes for a friend of mine and I simply ate a half of all the bacon while slicing it. From that time on I was eating the portions of meat so huge that some people wouldn't believe there was not a tapeworm in my guts.

About two months ago I participated in a sheep slaughter (well, we called it "a sacrifice" but it made no difference) and as we were getting ready to it I realized I couldn't come to terms with a life being destroyed. It was most likely "a happy sheep" (if something like that makes sense at all) but I still felt so sorry for it that I decided right away to give up meat at all.

I don't intend to save the world, I don't particularly love animals as individuals, and I am even squeamish about a lot of species. I only love the living nature so much I cannot do that damage to it. I enjoy the pulsing life in any single body and in the nature as such. And if I don't like some animals or if they disgust me I just want to let them live far from me if possible, but who am I to kill them?

It's a matter of feelings, sentiments, the intuition,... I cannot provide you with a rational argument.

Le rayon vert by Les_macons_francais


Why I Have Short Hair

I used to have really long hair. I mean, almost to the waist and very thick. Fair and straight. Then once I decided I could try having short hair for a change and someone told me that I could get money for it. Not that much actually, it was like 50 euros but you wouldn't throw them away. I was very surprised how good I looked but first of all it liberated me somehow. Not because of less time spending on doing my hair in the morning – I had never been spending any time on that to be honest – but because I stopped being so obsessed about it. I realized I am just equally pretty without hair and even if I wasn't, who the hell cares.

Then I let my hair grow again. Only because it doesn't matter to me at all.

A long after that I was with my then boyfriend helping his male friends with changing the roof on their wooden cottage in the mountains. That time I was very strong and I really wanted to help but I was not allowed. I was the only woman there and I amazed them by what I was able to carry in my hands but when it came to a real work they were pushing me aside and sending me to the kitchen. I couldn't cook so I just sat there and was sad.
So sad that I longed for getting rid of my womanhood. Instead of cutting away my breasts I cut off my ponytail. The men there were amazed and amused and liked it. They wouldn't understand.

For some time on I was wearing my hair asymmetrical but it looked really bad and some friends of mine had to cut it which I don't like. Now I shave it from time to time and not let it grow over five centimeters. And now I also perfectly know why: When a friend of mine asked me why I have short hair, I realized that I feel more beautiful when I don't have the typical feminine thing which is considered to be the most beautiful part of a woman. I feel less vulnerable as a woman since I don't meet men's requirements. I don't bother to think what people think about me – whether I am a lesbian or a feminist (which I am truly) or a buddhist nun or if I am after chemo.

I love being short-haired and it has nothing to do with the comfort not to have a comb in my bathroom.