My almost three year old came into the bathroom. “What are you doing?” “I’m straightening my hair.” Naturally, she asked, “Why?” The words were on the tip of my tongue but I
caught them before they left my lips.
“Because it makes me feel better about myself.” Do I really want to tell her, my beautiful
little girl, that a person’s hair should impact the way they see
themselves? Instead I answered her,
“Because sometimes I like it when my hair is straight. And sometimes I like it curly. And sometimes I like it when I don’t do it at
all.” That last part is a lie. I don’t like it. It doesn’t make me feel good. But the thought of her looking into a mirror
with disgust makes my heart ache. This
three year old, who knows how great and smart and funny she is, will someday be
a fifteen year old. What will she know
about herself then? Will she know that
if she doesn’t do her hair she is ugly?
Will she know that if she eats a cookie she should feel guilty? Will she
know that if you don’t look perfect you are not good enough?
Not on my watch.
Because I plan on fighting for her.
I will fight long and hard. And
I’ll do it by telling her that I like my hair straight, curly, or not done at
all. I’ll tell her that I don’t mind
leaving the house without make up. I’ll
tell her that I love to go hiking and swimming and jogging, but that I also
love to eat cake. A lot of cake. I’ll tell her that I’m heavier than I was
when I got married but I don’t mind.
I’ll tell her that sometimes I go swimming without shaving. I’ll tell her that I love my skin. I’ll tell her I know I’m beautiful. And some of these things will be completely
true while others I’m working on. But
maybe if I tell her these things now she will know them about herself
someday. And she will know she is great
and smart and funny. And she will know
that she is beautiful. Because beautiful
is so much more than how you did your hair.
