I have been struggling to dismantle a "punk" persona for a couple of years, and in the last few days, really trying to tackle the few remaining pieces of it. Last night, I cut off the pink hair and took out my last two piercings, and had a conversation with a part of me after.
Me: I don't want to be boring.
Someone: Do you think dyed hair and piercings are needed to make people interesting? None of the friends you have now dress like punks.
Me: No. They have other things though.
Someone: Like what?
Me: Well, Stef has great ideas. I think I have great ideas too, but no one notices. They notice that I have pink hair.
I felt a wave of sadness, and I cried hard for a while.
I fought the war but the war won
I fought the war but the war won't stop
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