Part of me has always identified my beauty with my hair. The story of me is told about how beautiful I was as a newborn baby with a full head of hair. When I was young my mom kept my hair long, always brushing it and keeping it in stylish pony tails. When it rained, ringlets would form around my face, gaining praise about “how cute” it was. And lastly, I always envisioned my dream wedding with my hair long and flowing.
|Mom and I|
Hair. What an interesting sense of security it gives us. I am surprised at my attachment to it.
When I was young, I witnessed my mom lose her hair and go bald. Her long, shiny red hair had been a large part of her identity during her teenage years and early twenties. Her “fiery” red hair became a lens through which people identified her spunky, firecracker nature.To lose her hair meant losing a part of her identity, her self worth and who she was in the world.
In my continual desire to push myself outside my comfort zone, I have decided to shave my head. I want to to connect with my inner beauty in order to transcend our culture's “perceived” idea of what beauty is.
I am donating my hair to a charity that provides wigs to cancer patients. And will be doing this on January 14th, my birthday.