My womanhood is not dictated by the length of my hair.
So last week I found lice in Mr. N’s hair. I checked my own and found a nit. My solution was simple, I washed everything and I shaved our heads (and Mr. C’s just in case as Mr. N loves to climb into bed with him and lay his head on his brothers and snuggle. A fact that leads me to near tears because of the vast change in his ability to handle physical contact, but I digress)
I thought I was judged a lot when I had pink hair, but WOW it was nothing compared to walking around as a woman with a shaved head. I have had people stare, snort their distain and even ask me if I actually think I’m still pretty without my hair. Here’s what it’s made me realize. We as a society are FAR too critical of everyone, especially strangers! While I logically understand that our judgemental tendency most likely stems from thousands of years of not trusting anything different our “outside of our tribe” as part of our means of survival, it doesn’t stop it from bothering me at times when I am judged by strangers. But then I breathe and try to remember that no one, not a stranger, not a friend, not even a family member has the right to dictate what I do with my body.
Something as temporary and superficial as a hair cut does not change what gender I identify as. I am not “less of a woman” because I only have an 1/4 inch of hair on my head. Just as I was not “more of a woman” when I had long tresses. What makes women; women is their intrinsic belief that they are. What makes me a woman is within me, it’s my spirit, not my hair or clothes.