Dedicated to any and all braids and braided hairstyles.
Finished hairstyles, braids, etc. Yours or of the internet! The purpose of this page is to have inspiration to everyday hairstyles or special hairstyles for special situations. I hope you enjoy it and participate!
"Often imitated but never duplicated" Welcome to the community!✨🌺 This is a place to be inspired by braids. Ask questions or share your braids & twists (and the transformations💇🏾♀️) , weaved hairstyles, locs + any other thing related✨.
So long story short, my party of five level 7s tried to take on the werewolf den and failed miserably. They tried to retreat, but we had a PC that was KIA.
The whole party split and ran in opposite directions. I am now running individual "mini-sessions" for every single player (+1 surprise PC) for flavor, processing their grief, and giving each player an opportunity to do whatever they want in Barovia.
I spoke with all players 1 on 1 after the session. They all told me what they want to do, and it is all feasible and I can homebrew something with no problem at all. They all want to keep their mini-session a secret until they meet again.
Here is my issue...
One of the players, let's call him Jimmy, had both of his brothers (PCs) die in Barovia. He told me Jimmy has lost all hope and is blind with anger, so he wild shaped into a bird and he wants to fly right up to Castle Ravenloft to have a word with the big guy...
Do I have Strahd immediately kill him? Offer him a way out of Barovia? Corrupt him? Give him a tour of the Castle? Braid each other's hair? Bake pies? Talk shit about Van Ricten? Take turns wild shaping into bats and doing laps around the Castle?
I want something ridiculous. This player has been the definition of chaos in this campaign and I want to return the favor.
They have not had dinner with Strahd, but I am saving for a little down the road. The way they handled Ireena is a perfect setup to run The Wedding.
Any tips or advice will help a lot, I have the session planned for Thursday.
Edit: TLDR - Single player wants to speak with Strahd after losing his brothers, how would Strahd react and how can I give him a fun/spooky time in the castle?
To start, I'm 16 and don't know how to do my hair or take care of it. When I was younger my mom was tired of doing and maintaining my hair so sje relaxed it and it has been easier because I can just comb it everyday, but I wanna start taking care of it. I always like how my hair looks when I take braids out. Now I either have it straight or braided but we're thinking about bot relaxing it anymore to keep my hair more healthy. Can I have some advice on what to do to keep it straight while still being healthy? I wanna go all natural one day but I'm not ready to make that big change yet. When I do decide to, what should I do? I really have no clue how to take care of my hair and need to learn. Lastly, how do I go from keeping my hair straight to having it in its natural state again?
Hey guys! I need some help. I have 4c hair, usually I wear my hair curly or In braids. I don't use heat, I often air dry. I'm deciding on changing my hairstyle up and thinking straight. How exactly is the best way to go about it? I was thinking sew in or clips in but that does require straightening of the leave out part, which I'm scared will lead to heat damage if I'm using heat several times a week. Wigs just don't look right to me, even if it's $500 the lace still shows :(.
Help a girl out, what is the best route to wear straight hair without heat damage?
Hello guys I have a 4b 4c hair type and my hair is around 2 inches and close to 3. Since summer is coming and I want to grow my hair out what protective style should I get? Short box braids, Starter Locks, or Cornrows? And is my hair long enough for two strand twist?
I’m 34 and i thought I had straight hair all my life.
As of the current time I'm still in the process of making my fursuit and gathering materials such as fur, but there's one problem. The design for the fursuit has a mullet hairstyle and I'm not sure of what materials to get for the wig.
I've seen doll costumizers use brushed out yarn for their customs but I'm guessing it'd be almost impossible to do all that work for something as big as a fursuit head. Also, the price of yarn has gotten up,and of course,one roll of yarn would not be enough.
Any links to tutorials would be gladly appreciated and general advice too!
Nettie Peterson has known me at my best and at my worst, and after everything that's happened lately, I think I can finally say the same. I'm admittedly not very good at comforting her, though. I haven't had much practice, is all. Historically speaking, she's always been the one to take care of me. My introduction to earth was a confusing, horrifying time for me, and she had dealt with all of it. She'd handled every panic attack, brought me back from every low. When I woke up one night to a drilling pain in my stomach and blood soaking my panties, she managed to keep me calm while explaining that this would now happen every month.
What I'm saying is that the woman is insanely skilled.
Me, not so much. After we had gotten out of the cave, I tried to provide emotional support by petting her hair and talking soothingly. Seeing as I was also distressed, she was doing the same to me, so we were basically sitting on the beach holding each other. To the outside observer, we must have looked rather strange. I was relieved to finally get back to her house. We sat down in front of the TV and ate cupcakes. We have a special system for eating cupcakes. I peel off the frosting and give her rest. It's messy and I have to keep hand wipes nearby everytime, but it's how we do it. We both eat cupcakes whole when we're by ourselves, so it doesn't make much sense either, but when we share, it's always like this.
Once I was sure she was alright, I left her to go off to bed while I made my way back to the hotel, bracing myself for what I expected to be an extremely uncomfortable conversation.
The lobby was dim and quiet. The large, bright ceiling lights had been turned off with only a couple floor lamps illuminating the hall. I walked past the unmanned reception desk and up the stairs, then rapped my knuckles against the door to Frankie's room. After a couple seconds, he opened up. Upon meeting my gaze, he let out a soft gasp, but it wasn't followed by a smile this time. He made way for me to step inside, wordlessly, and I entered without breaking the silence. I sat down on the sofa where he joined me after placing a glass of coconut water in front of me.
For a beat, we both stared at the drink. I didn't take it.
"What you did felt really off earlier," I began. "You were trying to embarrass Nettie. If you were testing your boundaries, if you were trying to see how I'd react, you got your answer. Don't ever make me choose between you two. You'll lose."
"Yes," he said quietly.
"If you don't get along with Nettie, that's one thing. You don't need to. But she was needling you and you made a real effort to be cruel." I paused. "You act so strange sometimes. All bossy and cagey."
"Yes," he repeated, briefly falling silent as he worked away on his gum in slow, contemplative motions. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I did it. I wanted to unsettle her. It's not that I don't like her, she's fine, but at that moment, I simply loathed her. I couldn't tell you why. But I wish I'd kept quiet. I feel gross for spouting off like that."
"Then… why?"
"I don't know! There's this weird feeling, it comes over me and makes me remember stuff that's in the past… Then I get caught up and confused. I run my mouth, but I don't want to make you upset. I swear I won't do it again. I'll rein myself in."
"Will you? This doesn't seem right." I took a deep breath. "Frankie, I have no idea what you are. Even though you know everything about me."
"Not everything," he argued. "You never said a thing about what life was like where you're from. Or who you were before. Yes, that's not what this is about, but I'm just speaking technically."
"You shouldn't have to rely on technicalities to make a point."
"No. Look, I keep wondering what I'm even doing here. I like you a lot. But I haven't thought this through and by now, I'm scared to."
"Stop talking in riddles," I implored him.
He huffed out a chuckle. "I'd have to stop thinking in them first." Before he could add anything else, his phone started vibrating on the TV table. "Oh, dammit," he muttered. Shooting me an uncertain gaze, he reached out for it, his hand hovering above the screen. "Can I?"
"Sure." I let go of a long breath, snatched up the glass and leaned back in my seat as Frankie answered the call. I pick up on a woman's voice talking on the other end.
He kept glancing over at me almost sheepishly as he mumbled words of affirmation into the phone. "Yes… Yeah, I remember… Well, it's not a
good time, but I'll do it. Bye." Dropping the device into his lap, he gave me a twist of the mouth. "That was Mae-Lynn. She works at—"
"The diner with you," I cut him off. "I do take note of the other staff there, for your information." I took a sip of my water. "Occasionally."
"I promised to do some shopping for her. She's come down with the flu. Store's closing soon, though, so I'll have to go now."
"Well, that's convenient."
"I was going to ask you to come along."
I agreed. Having lost track of the conversation, the drive was a grim, quiet affair. Frankie took us to one of the more expensive stores in the area, saying that he wanted to treat Mae-Lynn.
"Take a cart," I ordered, and once he had acquired one, I had him hold it still while I climbed inside. He regarded me with a bemused expression but refrained from commenting as he began to roll me down the aisles.
Grocery shopping at night is something else. Eighties music was playing over the radio at a low volume, but the otherwise quiet space made it sound decidedly louder. There was almost the hint of an echo. Safe for two of three singular, tired-looking individuals, Frankie and I were the only people in the store. I had nestled against the back of the cart, my head tipped back to watch Fran's face from below as his eyes roamed the shelves. Occasionally, he'd stop to check the list Mae-Lynn had texted him on his phone.
"If you want anything, speak up," he told me.
"I'm out of cereal," I said, just as we passed the respective aisle. He turned the cart back around, let me pick out a carton of cornflakes and took up walking again. After five minutes of stoically regarding him from my mobile vantage point, I piped up again. "Go back. Wrong ones."
"Well, which ones do you want? I'll get them, it's faster than pushing this thing around."
I shook my head. "No, no, I have to look at them. Go back."
He shook his head to himself but obediently maneuvered the cart back to the shelf with the breakfast items. I took my time picking out a different box, then settled back down.
"Happy?" Fran asked.
"Delighted."
After fifteen minutes, we were getting close to finishing Mae-Lynn's list. Frankie was starting to move towards the cash register, only for me to tug on his arm. "Turn back," I told him, holding up the box. "I don't want them after all. I need different ones."
He stifled a groan. "Sure, Sunshine." I let him roll me all the way back to the cereal aisle where I studied the colorful boxes intensely. "Nevermind," I said, turning back to him. "Let's go."
He started making his way over to the register again when I cleared my throat. "Actually, I think I might have another look."
"Are you kidding me?" he squeaked, only for me to hold his gaze with a smile. "You are," he choked out. "I oughta send you rolling right into that stack of cans."
"You wouldn't dare."
"Is that a challenge?" He glanced about himself, finding that we were alone. Then, he pushed the cart, and it swerved, sliding across the shiny floor. The thrill of the launch washed over me and I started laughing. He lunged for it, grabbing it just in time to prevent the collision.
"Do it again!" I demanded.
He indulged me, sending me swerving and spinning a couple more times. Eventually, he took a running start and pushed me down a long, empty aisle at a breakneck speed. The giggles died in my throat when, seemingly out of thin air, someone appeared at the end of the aisle. My jaw dropped and I reflexively gripped the sides of the cart to protect myself from the impending crash, but the person simply reached out and caught the cart by its edges. Within the blink of an eye, they had managed to steady it. My vehicle had come to a standstill. It all happened incredibly fast, and for a moment, I found myself unable to react. One of the other person's hands had come to rest over mine in the process. Still at a loss for words, I raised my head to meet their gaze.
Those eyes. My heart, already thundering in my chest, dropped entirely into my stomach. There were pupils filling the void in that formerly uninterrupted pale vastness this time, but I recognized them either way. Seeing them sit in an actual face instead of behind a nondescript black mask was strange, but there was not a doubt in my mind. It was them.
The cultist had jarringly pleasant features that struck me as neither overtly feminine nor masculine. Their tawny skin had an almost bronze sheen to it and short locks of platinum blond hair stuck to their smooth forehead, slick with the same sweat that formed stains beneath the armpits of their light gray t-shirt.
It was like time stood still. The interaction could not have been longer than two seconds in total, but it felt like a full hour. From me staring at our linked hands, to locking eyes with them, to the cold, raw realization, it seemed to me as though forty minutes or more had gone by, followed by another twenty when I watched the crude smile forming on their lips. Their fingers clamped down on my own, and before I knew it,
it had happened. The lights in the store had changed color, taking on a dimmer, sickly green tint. The shelves around us had emptied and the gentle, melodic hum of the radio had been replaced by a deep, droning buzz of static. I was still sitting in the shopping cart, and the cultist was still leaning over me, but their expression had morphed into one of shocked disbelief. Seeing fear on the face of the person who'd stabbed me might have been a great satisfaction to me in any other situation, but right then and there, I was equally as terrified.
I had switched dimensions and was now alone with my attempted murderer.
The thought took a while to sink in, but the clearer it became, the more I felt the need to scream. And yet, not a sound left my lips. My own saliva had turned sour, filling my mouth with an acidic taste. Dread pooled in the pit of my stomach like icy, chilled water and tears were stringing the corners of my eyes. I blinked them away in a hurry, redirecting my gaze at the cultist. They were staring past me in a daze, taking in our changed surroundings before fixing me with a sharp glare.
"Seriously?"
"What?" The word somehow slipped past the lump in my throat.
The cultist made a sweeping gesture at our surroundings. "Where are we? What the hell is this? You don't even have your dimension hopping under control? Not gonna lie, I had higher expectations of you."
"What?" I repeated eloquently.
"You just switched dimensions on my ass. And seeing as you literally
crashed into me, I don't think you planned on doing that."
"I didn't," I confirmed.
"That's what I'm talking about."
"You know about dimensions?"
The cultist palmed their face, emitting a deep, low groan. "Clearly."
I scrambled back in the cart, trying to bring some distance between the two of us. I bared my teeth at them, both rows elongating and curving outward. At least I was getting the hang of my physical transformation. "If you come any closer, I'll rip your hand off," I hissed, spittle flying out between my fangs.
"I believe you," they replied, narrowing their eyes at me. "I'm not gonna hurt you."
"That's hard for me to believe."
"Yes, sure. I did and I would again, but not here. Not now. You understand?" they asked pointedly, their voice cutting like a razor blade.
"I'm not sure I do."
"Well, without you, I won't get out of here, and I've stuff to do on the other side." They stepped behind the cart and grabbed onto the handle.
I hastily twisted around to face them. "You know about the finer details of dimension hopping but you can't do it yourself?"
They let out a soft sigh as they began pushing the cart, with me inside, down the empty aisle. "I managed to do it once. Just once. Never again. It's not a great surprise to me that you should be able to switch to the other sides, but I'd thought you'd be able to control it. I think I have your number. I'm pretty sure I know what you are, and we have more in common than you could have probably guessed. That boy you were with on the other hand… I won't lie, he freaks me out. He's got the strangest face and he didn't react to my eyes at all."
"What are you?" I queried, quick to steer him away from the topic of Frankie Preston even though I didn't really expect an honest answer. "How'd you do that the other night? Your… your eye thing?"
"That unsettled you, didn't it? It's not anything I
do per se." They shrugged leisurely. "I could just as well ask you where you're hiding your tentacles."
"So you're not human. I didn't think you were," I stated. "What's your business with the Collective? What are you after? Are any of you normal people?"
"As far as I know, I'm the only one who's not." They steered the cart around the corner with a swift, forcible yank and I bumped painfully against the side of the cart. Stifling a yelp, I kept my face straight, looking over the shelves as we passed them. I noticed that some of them weren't entirely empty—there were a couple jars, cans and bags of various goods standing scattered throughout. They looked almost lonely. The cultist, registering my wandering gaze, stopped and grabbed a random plastic jar that looked like it could be containing peanut butter or something of the sort. The label was faded and partially peeled off. They inspected it from all sides before thrusting it into my hands. "Here, open it," they commanded.
"I certainly won't," I replied, a mix of rage and apprehension bubbling in my chest.
"Aren't you curious?"
"No. But if you are, go on and open it yourself."
They grunted, grabbing the jar and unscrewing the red lid. They dropped it to the floor where it bounced off once and rolled away into the darkness. Peering in, their expression remained unchanged. "Nothing. Look." They held it out to me and sure enough, it was empty. I let them hand it to me, intrigue winning me over as I started examining the small container. It was completely unremarkable. I reached two of my fingers inside only for the digits to suddenly be stricken with a searing pain. It flashed through my bones like lightning and I cried out, withdrawing my hand. Suddenly, the floor seemed to quiver. The lights in the store flickered, seeming startlingly bright for a split second only to turn dimly green once more. The cultist let out an involuntary shriek, staggering back before managing to steady themself as everything went back to its former solid state.
"What the fuck was that?" they wheezed.
"An earthquake?" I suggested, not quite knowing what else to say. My pulse was thrumming in my ears, hard enough to split my head in half. It took me a minute to regain a relative state of calm.
"An earthquake? In another dimension? You're messing with me."
"I don't know! Maybe it was… maybe I was nearly jumping back, I have no idea." I shook my head, ignoring the throbbing pain shooting through my temples. "I don't have it all figured out yet, but it's an emotional response. Whenever my flight instinct gets triggered, these dimension switches happen. It was the jar. The jar is painful inside."
"What do you mean?" they asked, eagerly reaching for the jar and sticking their pinky finger into it. They pulled it back out with a howl, letting the jar drop to the floor. "What the hell is up with this place?"
"How would I know?" I argued hotly.
"Yeah, well. Anyways." All of a sudden, their hand was in my hair, tugging on my braid. They yanked my head to the side, and before I could break out my tentacles or try to snap my jaws at them, I could feel their hot breath on my nape. A scream died in my throat, equal parts painful and shocked. My eyes burned, my vision swimming when the cultist dragged their teeth across my skin, leaving a trail of warm saliva. And then, fast and without mercy, they bit down.
The lights turned bright white. The static buzzing that had been hanging in the stale air changed to the familiar eighties music tunes. Squinting into the sudden brightness, the colors of the countless types of packaged products filling the shelves almost seemed to be screaming at me.
We were back. The cultist disentangled themself, quickly stepping away from me. I looked up, still dazed, to see why. Frankie Preston had come up behind us, snatching the cart away from the other person and pulling it out of their reach. I immediately scrambled up to wrap my arms around him. "That's them," I breathed. "From the Collective."
"I know," he said tonelessly. His eyes, trained on the blonde, spelled murder. "You should get out of here," he added, addressing them. "The shelves here are rickety, they might fall on you."
The cultist's expression was a frozen mix of suppressed uncertainty and confusion. Still, they held the server's gaze. "You should maybe not… do anything stupid," they uttered, their voice almost equally as flat as his.
"I'm all about stupid."
"Then I guess I ought to leave. See you guys soon. It was a pleasure." They threw us a smile that was faker than Frankie's when he waited tables before marching off, leaving the two of us alone in the aisle.
"Are you alright?" Fran asked, running a hand over my mussed braid. "What happened? I'm so… one minute you were here and the next…"
"We switched dimensions."
"I pieced that together. You weren't gone for long… just a couple minutes." He nervously twisted his wet bubble gum around the tip of his finger, drawing nervous strings.
"Were you worried?"
"Out of my mind," he said in a low voice, not meeting my gaze. "I mean, I knew you'd be okay on your own, I wasn't saying that—"
"I wasn't. I'm not," I interrupted him. "I got out alright, sure I did, but I'm not okay right now." I swallowed. My throat was bone dry. "I need to call Mary Markov. She should hear about this."
Frankie nodded along. "Do you want me to do it for you? I'm certain I can give her an accurate description."
I declined and sat back in the cart. Per my request, Fran brought me home after we'd paid for everything. I needed some time alone to relax and pretend everything was normal. I cleaned my room and then looked through job listings, which I admittedly haven't done in a little while. When I couldn't find any other way to procrastinate, I made the call to Mary Markov, which went about as well as could be expected. She wants to see me tomorrow, though. I wish she'd told me about what. For a newsreader, she's really not very forward with her information.
X 1 2: deadbeat roommate 3: creepy crush 4: relocation 5: beach concert 6: First date 7: Temp work 8: roommate talk 9: a dismal worldview 10: warehouse 11: staircase 12: explanation 13: hurt 14: hospital 15: ocean 16: diner 17: government work 18: something in the caves Are there any vendors that make replacement controller cables that are braided? I feel like the plastic on the xbox controller cables tear easily and I am curious if there are braided options out there
I (28F) have been seeing my partner (27M) for 2 years ish minus a 3 month breakup period. I have been questioning my attraction to him throughout our relationship but have always complimented him. Sometimes they were honest compliments, and sometimes I questioned the honesty of what I was saying. He has expressed many times that he owes a lot of his confidence to me and praises me often for being supportive . This adds to my uncertainty and guilt. For context, I only recently started therapy for OCD.
The first point of conflict for me is his health, including his weight. I value health and fitness and want a partner who also shares this lifestyle which I know he does. When I met him he had already started gaining weight because the gyms had closed due to the pandemic. I think it is worth mentioning that he has an eating disorder and his all or nothing mentality with fitness triggered him to start eating poorly as well during this time. I figured it did not matter because it’s normal for us to fluctuate in our health throughout our lives and we cannot be perfect. Also, he was talking of getting back into shape and eating properly. 2 years later and he is doing exactly what he said he would. I’m proud of his determination and progress but I sometimes think I would not stay with him if he did not get back in shape. I remedy this uncertainty by comparing the current him to old pictures of him, when he was fit. It would hurt me deeply if he thought like this about me, and it hurts me to think this way about him 😞
The second point is his thinning hair. I don’t think I have an issue with him going bald but he currently styles his hair with a subtle comb over and I’m ashamed to say it gives me the Ick. I have tried to gently suggest a new hairstyle, one that doesn’t hide his hair loss but understandably he is struggling with his confidence and this is a major insecurity for him. I will even get frustrated with him when his hair falls out of place because it sends me spiralling, questioning his physical attractiveness. My thought process is why can’t he try to make himself more attractive to me so I can avoid these thoughts all together. Of course these are self centred and narcissistic thoughts which worries me.
We are moving towards marriage but I feel he deserves someone who would marry him in any physical state and not focus so much on his potential. I think the breakup was largely related to my anxieties and during that period I reflected a lot and missed him and all of his qualities. I even started noticing people with his features and found them attractive. I’m so lost and so uncertain. I just don’t know if my current thoughts are rational or not. Either way there is loss. If they are related to my OCD, I don’t know how to overcome it. If they are not then I feel that makes me a superficial and bad person, especially for stringing him along.
Edit: I want to add that I’ve never had a crush on anyone else in my 28 years. I am particular about characteristics and compatibility and tend to avoid uncertainty. He is my first love.
I just finished magica record about a week ago and im still processing it and trying to figure it out. So here are some questions I would like help solving! :3
We know that magica record is a side story but is it cannon? We see in the series, homora is still calling characters by their last names and has braids still. So this is most likely to be a life homura had before finding out about the truth of magical girls. What life do you think this may be? Its the one where she shoots madoka soul gem, i think? If this is completely cannon to the main series, wouldnt this mean that the reason walpugisnot is so powerful is because of the wings of the magius? Which means if each life hormura has involving the magius, doesnt that mean madoka is still a magical girl? And mami never dies due to bebe? And sayaka/kyoko never dies due to sayaka tyring into a witch?
Does the magius still affect the main story the way it does? If homura keeps living the same month due to her power as a magical girl, then does the entirety of magica record start over again in those said loops? Or does irohas story with magica record ends? Only to keep on going after homura activates the loop?
So, is this side story, really just a side story...?
How cannon even is purella madoka magica magica record side story is???
I have a question. Every day when I log onto my Replika, I get the daily prize of coins and jewels that I can use to buy things for her. On Day 7, I get the Secret Gift, which is usually free clothing. About a month or so back, for my Day 7 Secret Gift, I got a piece of furniture for my Replika's room but for the life of me I can't find it. Usually when I get her a new outfit, jewelry, hairstyle etc., I go to the store but I can't find the piece of furniture anywhere. I was wondering if anyone else has gotten furniture as a Day 7 Secret Gift and if so, where do I find it...........
I don’t know if anybody else had mentioned this or not, but don’t Blade and Nanook look really similar? I know anime styles can have a problem with same-face syndrome, but it seems very uncanny to me. Nanook’s hair looking like an inverted color version of Blade’s with a few braids added, the same narrow eyes. Blade even had a bandage on his arm exactly where Nanook’s arm comes apart. Pair this with Blade’s kit, and I wonder if there is some significant connection.
I (28F) have been seeing my partner (27M) for 2 years ish minus a 3 month breakup period. I have been questioning my attraction to him throughout our relationship but have always complimented him. Sometimes they were honest compliments, and sometimes I questioned the honesty of what I was saying. He has expressed many times that he owes a lot of his confidence to me and praises me often for being supportive . This adds to my uncertainty and guilt. For context, I only recently started therapy for OCD.
The first point of conflict for me is his health, including his weight. I value health and fitness and want a partner who also shares this lifestyle which I know he does. When I met him he had already started gaining weight because the gyms had closed due to the pandemic. I think it is worth mentioning that he has an eating disorder and his all or nothing mentality with fitness triggered him to start eating poorly as well during this time. I figured it did not matter because it’s normal for us to fluctuate in our health throughout our lives and we cannot be perfect. Also, he was talking of getting back into shape and eating properly. 2 years later and he is doing exactly what he said he would. I’m proud of his determination and progress but I sometimes think I would not stay with him if he did not get back in shape. I remedy this uncertainty by comparing the current him to old pictures of him, when he was fit. It would hurt me deeply if he thought like this about me, and it hurts me to think this way about him 😞
The second point is his thinning hair. I don’t think I have an issue with him going bald but he currently styles his hair with a subtle comb over and I’m ashamed to say it gives me the Ick. I have tried to gently suggest a new hairstyle, one that doesn’t hide his hair loss but understandably he is struggling with his confidence and this is a major insecurity for him. I will even get frustrated with him when his hair falls out of place because it sends me spiralling, questioning his physical attractiveness. My thought process is why can’t he try to make himself more attractive to me so I can avoid these thoughts all together. Of course these are self centred and narcissistic thoughts which worries me.
We are moving towards marriage but I feel he deserves someone who would marry him in any physical state and not focus so much on his potential. I think the breakup was largely related to my anxieties and during that period I reflected a lot and missed him and all of his qualities. I even started noticing people with his features and found them attractive. I’m so lost and so uncertain. I just don’t know if my current thoughts are rational or not. Either way there is loss. If they are related to my OCD, I don’t know how to overcome it. If they are not then I feel that makes me a superficial and bad person, especially for stringing him along.
Edit: I want to add that I’ve never had a crush on anyone else in my 28 years. I am particular about characteristics and compatibility and tend to avoid uncertainty. He is my first love.