I painted my nails pink yesterday.
It started as a friendly game with my love interest as she straightened her hair, and I looked at the nail polish she had on her table. I picked it up and wondered, “What would she say if I started painting my nails pink?”
We had just returned from a brunch meeting about our relationship, highlighting our differences while keeping our emotions from flying. We intended to be upfront and straight with each other but, I’ll admit, it’s pretty hard. I keep everything close to me, I couldn’t admit being the soft one when the man in me should be huffing and puffing his chest around like a baboon with a huge erection.
But in something she said, I let everything out and it came pouring out, like a dam wall breaching it’s contents into the valley below, fearful it would wipe out a village but, thankfully, it was a village full of cannibals and paedophiles, so no real loss.
So, a hard brunch but a good brunch.
Back at her place, I held up her pink nail polish and wondered why do men never use it? And why not pink?
I came to realise that I never wore nail polish before, for I never needed to. People take one look at my nails and think he’s a nervous wreck for biting them, but if I painted them a ridiculous colour, will they look at me differently? Will they think I’m weird, odd, an outcast, or mentally insane?
And then it hit me…I am odd, of course I am. I don’t fit in with people and feel ostracized, but in truth I like being different from the rest. Back when I was a child I wasn’t allowed to be different. Today, I can do whatever I want. My job won’t judge me for being different. I have already established myself amongst the tech boys and management girls, so if I change, it doesn’t affect my work, just my outlook to them.
In painting my nails pink, I wasn’t just making my appearance a little more shocking, I was attacking the socio-economic outlook society views upon a grown man that champions outright thinking that challenges the norm. Yes, nice jeans, a clean shirt and clean shoes. But wait, pink nails? That is different, that is unacceptable.
No, it’s not unacceptable, it’s outstanding. I am not one of you, I am me, I want to stand out. I want to break free of what people want me to be, I don’t think the same as you do. In fact, how can I, I don’t even know what you are thinking. You don’t tell me, and I do not understand. I can’t face you with limited knowledge of the status quo, especially as I cannot care less about how the quo or the status match in uneven equilibrium.
At this point, I’ve done the one nail. “Honey, you think I should do them all?”
She smiles, “Well, if you’ve done one, you might as well do them all.”
As I said, it was a good brunch.