My Face . . .
My face sometimes really irritates me.
I'm a twin. My brother and I were in a car crash. He died.
We'd always had rather longish hair, worn to collar-length in back, shorter in front. If our bangs hadn't been trimmed, they would have touched our chin. And because we were "so cute," cameras were hauled out.
I was pretty much out of it for a while after the crash. There was a long physical recover period (not pleasant). My hair continued to grow, of course, but I'd decided not to cut it. I'm not entirely sure of the reason. Perhaps I'd become accustomed to it.
I know that long hair can be a great shield when people stared. It helped to conceal the right half of my face, which had been badly scarred. The bones of it hadn't quite set right, which meant I later had to undergo having it re-broken in order to restore it to a semblance of itself.
And when I looked in the mirror, seeing M----- (of course), it was easier to have the image softened by the veil of my hair. And I developed an aversion to cameras and having my picture taken. Almost phobic. I still don't like having pictures taken of me - unless I have some control over the lighting and other things.
And my hair continued to grow.
I gave various reasons for not cutting it.
After several years, and more cosmetic/reconstructive work, my face still bugs me. I did decide to donate my hair to an organization that makes wigs for children and others who need them (cancer, other reasons, etc).
My face is MY face now (not "our" face) . . . the result of events. But I still wonder . . . what would M---- look like today? And does my face look as his would have?
And that really bugs me.