Daughter has been rocking short hair for a long time now, and she’s decided to grow it out. I’ve grown out a pixie myself and I know first hand that it can lead to some pretty frustrating bad hair days. Because Daughter is at the age when that really bothers her and because I’m a softie, I took her to the mall today to get some cool, wide cloth hair bands that she can rock on her awkward days.
At a big box store she found one that she loved and tried it out for a few days. She was empowered by pushing her bangs out of her face, she felt beautiful with her whole glowing visage out there for the world. I wanted more of this feeling in her, so I took her to her favorite store. She had become very particular about her choices in head bands, and after much looking she found exactly what she wanted. Naturally, she changed bands as we walked back to the car.
As I looked over at her, I realized that everything I didn’t know I wanted in my life as a child, all of the things I didn’t know were silently encouraging me to be meek, were gone from Daughter’s life.
Please understand, I am all about little girls being princesses if they want to be. We had years of them in my house. Daughter is more into Rey from Star Wars and Holtzman from Ghostbusters these days, but she’s still a girlie kid. I’m ok with that. I’d also be ok with it were she a boy. There were days when she wore a Cinderella dress and Darth Vader helmet and rocked them. She’s been amazing superheroes, too: boys, girls, aliens, whatever. She can be what she wants. But I was so excited for her, proud for her, liberated with her, when I saw her shirt and headband, both from the same store, were proclaiming words that were not options for me as a child. Those words are two of the greatest dreams I have for her. I was happy to see her wearing them.
So, my amazing daughter, go.
Be unique. Be strong.