Long Hair Don’t Care

When I was 20 back in the day I wanted to be Kurt Cobain. Without the heroin habit and suicidal tendencies of course. ‘Nevermind’ still remains my favourite album (does that give away my age?) of all time and I can tell you where I was the first time I heard ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit.’ I can also tell you where I was when I heard of his death. That was a sad day and I recall reading the newspaper and shaking my head in disbelief. Such a talent. Such a waste.

I began to wear second hand ‘grunge’ clothing which, oddly enough, cost more than brand new gear. I wore this with pride around Belfast. I was a rebel who lived life on the edge. Of course I never wore it when I went home to visit my parents but every rock legend has to start somewhere. I bought a second hand acoustic guitar and started to play until about a week later when I realised I hadn’t a note in my head and flung it into the corner. 

Air guitar was more my thing and I spent many a happy hour throwing shapes and thrilling sold out auditoriums from the safety of my bedroom. Jumping off the drum riser (bed) and landing on my knees was my speciality move until I received complaints about the noise. Had to tone it down a bit after that as, metal god that I was, I didn’t want to get on the wrong side of the neighbours.

I went to a motorcycle shop and bought a genuine biker jacket. The guy in the shop started to quiz me about crankshafts and the like and I nodded knowledgeably and muttered something about my bike being in the garage at the moment. I also wore skin tight black jeans which left little to imagination and took around half an hour to get on and off. Just think Ross Gellar and the episode of ‘Friends’ where he bought a pair of leather trousers. 

But most of all I wanted long hair. Long, straight hair. I resolved that I was growing it and painfully inspected it each day in the mirror to monitor progress. Initially all was well but disaster loomed once it crept over my collar. It started to grow upwards again. The back of my head resembled a ski slope. I was bereft and no matter how hard I tried to straighten and coax it, my follicles steadfastly defied the laws of gravity. I looked more like Kirk Douglas than Kurt Cobain and was inconsolable.

If you viewed any photographs of me taken during this era and you would have been convinced that I had no neck. Whenever a lens was pointed in my direction my default setting was to scrunch up both shoulders in a desperate attempt to convince people that my hair was longer than it actually was. The cringe factor was off the scale and, for the last 20 plus years, I have made it my life’s work to hunt down and destroy any visual image of me from that period of my life. 

No matter how hard I tried I was never going to be Kurt Cobain. I realised that it was much less expensive (and embarrassing) to just be myself. Externally at least. Throughout my adult life I have always tried to be someone who I am not in order to impress others and fit in. I have had more reincarnations than Dr. Who and they have all invariably ended in disaster. Hurting myself and my loved ones in the process. 

Being yourself is hard in this day and age. Peer pressure to behave in a certain way is huge and many buckle under the strain of it all. But accepting and beginning to like who you are is the first step towards maturity. My family love me for who I am even though I can try the patience of a saint. Being yourself is infinitely harder than playing a role and living a lie. But infinitely more rewarding. God created me this way for a reason. He has a plan for all of us and to act out of character is disobedient and self-defeating. 

Be brave. Be honest. Be yourself. 

R.I.P. Kurt.

Jeremiah 29:11 – ‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’

How hard do you find it to be yourself?

Do you even know the real you?

Tell us about your worst ever hairstyle.

Published by Fractured Faith Blog

We are Stephen and Fionnuala and this is our story. We live in Northern Ireland, have been married for 15 years and have three kids - Adam, Hannah and Rebecca. We hope that our story will inspire and encourage others. We have walked a rocky road yet here we are today, together and stronger than ever. We are far from perfect and our faith has been battered and bruised. But an untested faith is a pointless faith. Just as a fractured faith is better than none at all. We hope you enjoy the blog.

33 thoughts on “Long Hair Don’t Care

  1. Great post! I think my brother had the poster of the boy using the urinal if you know the one I mean. When I got to that phase in life, I drifted more in the skater, rancid, social distortion direction.


  2. Nirvana revolutionary band. Wonderful songs on all albums.
    I am slowly finding the real me again with my new job and my slow recovery from my eating disorder. I still think it will be a long time before the real me is back. Maybe people never find their real selves? Its an interesting one because we all go through life to a certain degree trying to please thus do we really end up being our real selves?

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Thanks, yes. I was a DJ 1976-1979 and never really got on to Nirvana. I more liked 70’s stuff but also bands like Yazoo, ModernTalking, Depeche Mode, etc.


  3. I have found it very hard to be myself, except when blogging. Family and other people have a way of rejecting what I say or just not being interested. I try to be very careful what I say around my family.

    My daughters used to hate it when I talked about God and salvation. So I quit and left them to the Holy Spirit, which was a good step, I think. Now they are Christians, but still don’t seem to like what I say about my faith or beliefs. I’m not telling them to be like me, but I guess they take it that way.

    When I’m feeling really sad about something, my husband doesn’t like to talk with me or hear about it. I can’t blame him too much. I’ve had some breakdowns etc. that have upset him. I think when I get sad, he gets scared. Sigh. So, this is why I’ve gotten a lot closer to God the last few years. And that has been a wonderful thing. I tell him all I’m thinking and I know he accepts me just the way I am. He is a terrific friend, so I don’t feel lonely anymore.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Thanks, what a relief to hear that there is someone else that loved grunge AND a Christian! Crazy thing was that it may have been the only time my holy jeans, leather jacket and hating to do anything more with my hair than a quick ponytail in the morning was fashionable. I was finally “cool” because I was a hot mess when I walked out the door and didn’t even care lol

    Be well, always.


      1. Pretty amazing! My non-Christian daughter knows them and really like them. Yup when I told her they were Christian grunge I got the eye roll and then a few suggestions of songs lol


  5. I always wanted to be Anna Leon Owens πŸ™‚ I’ve only watched The King and I a million times! I loved her sassy and courageous spirit. Her faith and willingness to stand up for what she believed in even in a country that was nothing like her own, always inspired me. But I think it was the way that she could see other people’s point of view and understand them without really agreeing with them that really impressed me. Unfortunately running around in heels and a hoop skirt is really not an option at any age πŸ™‚ or I would have some truly regrettable photos out there in the universe too!


  6. Lol… I love this! Reminds me of how my dad said for a time he had his hair styled like the Beatles and all the girls swooned! lol… As for me, my worst hairdos were when I was a kid… The one my mom had me wear that caused kids to think I had side burns! And then as a teen when I was growing out my bangs, that was a rough time! πŸ˜‰


  7. Love this. I loved those screamo bands in high school and ended up having the long, greasy looking black hair like they had. Somehow people loved it and they remember me because of it but looking back now I can’t imagine having that hair again (or physically growing it).


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