Acceptance, they say, is a good
thing, a great thing in fact. Do you agree?
Acceptance that you are your own
person. Acceptance that you are perfect
just the way you are. Acceptance that your faults, quirks, are what make
you the individual that you are. Unique in your own way. Perfect with your
imperfections. Knowing that your fear of math is just as normal as your friend’s
fear of languages. Knowing that choosing arts over science doesn't make you a disappointment.
Understanding that you don’t always have to fit in or conform to rules. Believing
that it’s perfectly alright to not let official work encroach upon your
personal space or time. Realizing that moving on to new ideas and thought
processes doesn't make you any less rooted to your culture. Trusting that criticizing
the wrong in your society doesn't make you a hyperventilating idiot. You know, just basically, being comfortable
in your own skin.
Now this acceptance that I speak of
doesn't come easily. No, sir. It takes years and sometimes a life time to reach
that peak from where everything seems crystal clear, straightforward. A lot of
it has to do with maturity and that comes with experience and age. And this
tricky acceptance doesn't come all at once for every different aspect of your
existence. It is fastidious and comes along at different forks of the road
during your life’s journey.
Now why am I all of a sudden talking
about acceptance? The last few days have brought me one; one that I have been
after for a long time and hence the post. Which you ask? Well, it has
everything to do with my hair. Yes, my unruly tresses!
As far as I can recall silky,
straight hair has always been my dream. I would read Rapunzel, watch Disney
princesses in the big screen and wish for hair like them. And mind you every princess in the circuit had straight hair. I don’t remember even one with a frizzy
head of hair. Thus you can understand how a young girl at an impressionable age, in
which I was, could be led to believe that you
either have straight hair or bad hair. And since I didn't have the former, I
thought I must obviously have the latter.
Now my hair has always been curly. Always,
always. On top of that straightening treatments starting from college, hostel life
and now bore-well water in my apartment, have not really made my hair journey
an easy one. It has been a strenuous relationship at most.
I don’t remember ever willingly leaving
my hair undone. Awkward is how I have always felt with a curly head of hair. With
pins and bands I have made every single effort possible to straighten out every
last bit of curl.
Honestly, I have always been reluctant to form a rapport with my
natural hair. I detested it and made every possible effort to fight it. It was as if I was in love with straight
hair but had been forcefully married off to curly hair. But towards the end
of 2014, this marriage suddenly began to work out. The kinks in the
relationship began to disappear. I began to accept my hair the way it was. I suddenly
decided to just let my hair be. So what if it is curly? If anything, it’s
wonderful that it’s curly. Maybe the hair fall has made it weak, but I could
take care of it. Moreover straight or curly, it’s just hair.
For the first time I feel
comfortable and confidant with my curly head of hair. In fact, I have also
begun leaving it untied and somehow I feel really good about it. I think in all
my life it is only in the past two months that I have had the most fun with my
hair. I guess I have accepted the frizz, the curl and have even begun to fall
in love with it.
I know it might not seem like a
huge acceptance to you but it sure is for me. Inconsequential it might be but
still somehow it isn't. I feel wonderful and that can’t be insignificant, can
it?
Acceptance, big or small, is truly
a beautiful thing. Trust me!