It's Not About The Hair
photo credit: www.pixabay.com/GiselaFotografie
“You should teach your daughter to shave her armpits.” The unsolicited advice from the woman hit me in the face. First of all, “should” is a trigger word for me; something I am trying to expunge from my dialog both internal and external.
The audacity! I felt the red hot emotion rising through my body. Really? Because in the grand scheme of raising a daughter at a time when there are too many “should’s” in her life already, THIS is what I “should” focus on? Armpit hair?
What does this woman know about my daughter? I wanted to tell her, “You have NO idea who my daughter is or anything about my parenting. Do you even HAVE a daughter?! Then YOU of all people shouldn’t be telling me what I should and shouldn’t do!!” I wanted to shame her right back. But instead, I took a deep breath.
What this woman needed to know is that my daughter is bright and funny and thoughtful and OPINIONATED. Who am I to tell her what she “should” do? She is Gifted, with a capital “G.” I didn’t fully understand what that meant beyond being really smart. Turns out Gifted means her brain works in a different way. Or should I say yet another different way than mine works. She processes information in a way that I don’t quite understand…yet. It means she understands that she is different and that she is “weird” without being able to NOT be that way. She fights with herself about being both proud of who she is and yet wanting to change to be “alike” instead of “different.”
She is also a girl with ADHD who rages mightily against the big wonderful emotions I keep promising her she will one day grow to not only regulate but to appreciate and embrace. (sidebar: She thinks I’m totally nuts.)
She is eleven. She is hormonal, more so on those special days of the month. She is a girl growing into a young woman at a time when it’s both not so easy to be a girl yet there are so many more opportunities for girls (and women). She gets to grow up watching Wonder Woman be a bad ass. She has role models like Michelle Obama and Malala and Emma Watson.
She also has to try to understand and thrive in a world where rape and violence against women is predominantly still thought to be her own fault. She, sadly, can expect to get paid less than a man doing the same work. She is living in a world where the media sets a completely unrealistic (and asinine, if you’re asking me) expectation of what a woman “should” look like and act like – hence, the armpit hair judgement.
She also sees women and men joining to raise their voices to fight, to demand that humans are treated as humans regardless of their gender identity, their faith or the color of their skin.
She’s eleven. She’s got a lot on her plate. If she doesn’t want to shave her armpit hair then who in the hell does this woman think she is to say otherwise?
I look back into the mirror, square in the eyes of the “other woman.” I tell myself to relax. I tell myself that sure, SOMEONE will notice and say something to her. I tell myself to breath…she’s got this. I tell myself to focus on what really matters – giving my daughter the gift of strength and of her own voice. Focus on giving her a choice, like all those badass women of the 60’s and 70’s did for me. And I tell that woman in the mirror that it’s just a little frickin’ armpit hair, sheesh! She made her choice. Be proud. Honor her and honor yourself. You’re both doing just fine.