I remember when I was a little girl and stared up at my mother. I would watch her eyes crinkle with laughter and her blonde hair create a halo around her face. When I think back on that memory now, I realise that is what the standard of beauty should be: the way someone laughs, the way they treat people around them, and the kindness in their heart, not the superficial things that seem to now plague our everyday lives. Our idea of beauty has changed drastically.

In an era where we are increasingly consumed by social media, we no longer have the freedom to make our own decisions about what beauty is; rather, these ideas are imposed upon us. Since platforms such as TikTok and Instagram have gone extremely viral, it has been difficult to escape from all the restrictive guidelines and implications on what beauty is. Whether you have a thigh gap and a flat stomach or curves and big boobs, there is never any rest for women who are active on social media or even just in our own communities.

Since I was about thirteen years old, I have struggled with the relationship between my body and my mind. Especially after lockdown, I seemed to be in a constant state of discomfort in my skin. I constantly compared myself to the people around me and the people I followed on social media. That is when I began to use my hair as a way to escape. I cut my hair into styles that I had never tried before, and even dyed my hair at a certain point. I used my hair as a way to shield myself from the world while also making myself feel beautiful. Hair has been a reflection of people’s identities in many different communities. In queer communities, hair is used as a way to express your creativity. In many African communities, hair can be used not only to express your religious beliefs but also your rank and over time, it has become a symbol of power and resilience. We have always used hair as a way to express who we are, and that elevates the symbolism and power behind the styles we choose to embrace. 

Over the past year, I have been struggling a lot with my image, not only the way I look but also the way that people perceive me. Although having my hair reach my lower back has been a way of expression. I have used my long hair as a way to make myself feel beautiful and get a sense of validation from the people around me. 

My long strands of blonde hair have covered up my insecurities and helped me feel more desired in a male-centric society.  Blonde hair has symbolised many things, from ‘dumb blondes’ to purity, naivety and youthfulness; blonde women have been known to be desired by men. The more this came to light for me, the more I realised how much I was giving up of myself to feel validated. I understood that I could not let this define me.

I came across this quote by Margaret Atwood that says, “You are a woman with a man inside watching a woman,” which basically means that even if the male gaze is not pushed onto you, you push it onto yourself. That is true, especially when we look at these trends on social media that show the transition of people dressing for the ‘male-gaze’ and then how they dress when they dress for the ‘female-gaze’. When this trend started, I began to wait for my time to dress for the female gaze, only to realise it never comes. We have all grown up in a society that places more value on the validation and appreciation of men and romance, so that, when it comes to realising it, you also understand there is no escape. Style is not defined by the male or female gaze but rather by what feels like the truest representation of you at the time.

For the past few years, I have known that at some point, I would like to shave my head. There may be no way for us to escape our own internalised thoughts, but if we have any power, we must use it. My shaved head not only symbolises the step I am taking away from the validation of the people I rely on, but it is also a symbol of power. Our beauty is not based on the things we wear and the way we look, but on how we act. Before shaving my head, I had this deep-rooted anxiety; the excitement I had felt before quickly turned into anxiety, although as I cut each strand of hair shorter, and as the buzzer ran over my head, I began to feel lighter.

 The weight that I had been carrying for the past few years felt the tiniest bit less. As I looked at myself in the mirror, for the first time, with no long cascading hair, only a small bit of fuzz, I couldn’t help but smile. My mind felt freer, and the world around me seemed a little less blurred, because I felt as though I was myself. No bombarding opinions, just the impulse to be free and the understanding that bit by bit I am becoming myself again.

To end on a quote by Virginia Woolf, “Unless I am myself, I am nobody.”