When I gave birth in 2000, I was surrounded by expectations and assumptions about motherhood - the constant attention, praise and idealization. But after a few weeks with my baby, things took a different turn. I collapsed in bed, exhausted, covered in sweat and dirty sheets. Watching Madonna, just three months post-baby herself, dance seductively on Top of the Pops was like a slap to the face.
The days blended together as I struggled to leave the house, feeling overwhelmed by every tiny task - eating, getting dressed, even taking care of my baby. It felt like being trapped in a well of loneliness. Something had to change.
And then it hit me: haircare. The time and effort required to maintain what was perceived as 'normal' womanly locks seemed futile. Washing, brushing, and dyeing - no thanks. I could shave my head in just 20 minutes, freeing up hours in the day that were being squandered on trivialities.
My plan was twofold: liberate myself from these exhausting expectations and perhaps find a new sense of freedom. But what I discovered was something quite different. With my buzz cut, people started to treat me differently - some with hostility, others with suspicion. Strangers would stare or ignore me, assuming that I must be 'difficult' because I didn't conform.
It turned out that shedding one marker of femininity meant shedding all the associated benefits too. The constant approval and attention came with an occasional creepy undertone, but looking 'normal' had been my default - a badge of honor, or so I thought.
The price was steep: for a while, I felt invisible, excluded from everyday interactions. And that's exactly what it felt like - being ignored, dismissed as some kind of enigma that nobody could fathom.
But after the shock had passed, and my hair grew back to its original glory, something remarkable happened. My perspective changed. Being 'invisible' for a few days had given me a glimpse into the world where appearance alone was enough to change how people saw you. And it wasn't pretty.
Looking in the mirror now, I see a woman with waist-length white hair - the ultimate symbol of liberation, yet also a reminder that our perceptions can be so narrow and exclusive. It's been an enlightening journey, one that has taught me the value of living life on my own terms, even if it means stepping outside the boundaries of what society expects from us.
The days blended together as I struggled to leave the house, feeling overwhelmed by every tiny task - eating, getting dressed, even taking care of my baby. It felt like being trapped in a well of loneliness. Something had to change.
And then it hit me: haircare. The time and effort required to maintain what was perceived as 'normal' womanly locks seemed futile. Washing, brushing, and dyeing - no thanks. I could shave my head in just 20 minutes, freeing up hours in the day that were being squandered on trivialities.
My plan was twofold: liberate myself from these exhausting expectations and perhaps find a new sense of freedom. But what I discovered was something quite different. With my buzz cut, people started to treat me differently - some with hostility, others with suspicion. Strangers would stare or ignore me, assuming that I must be 'difficult' because I didn't conform.
It turned out that shedding one marker of femininity meant shedding all the associated benefits too. The constant approval and attention came with an occasional creepy undertone, but looking 'normal' had been my default - a badge of honor, or so I thought.
The price was steep: for a while, I felt invisible, excluded from everyday interactions. And that's exactly what it felt like - being ignored, dismissed as some kind of enigma that nobody could fathom.
But after the shock had passed, and my hair grew back to its original glory, something remarkable happened. My perspective changed. Being 'invisible' for a few days had given me a glimpse into the world where appearance alone was enough to change how people saw you. And it wasn't pretty.
Looking in the mirror now, I see a woman with waist-length white hair - the ultimate symbol of liberation, yet also a reminder that our perceptions can be so narrow and exclusive. It's been an enlightening journey, one that has taught me the value of living life on my own terms, even if it means stepping outside the boundaries of what society expects from us.
- the story about this woman ditching her hair and finding a new sense of freedom is soooo relatable! I mean, can you imagine being on top of the world one day, and then suddenly having people stare at you or treat you differently just because you shaved your head? 
it's like, hello, isn't my self-expression supposed to be a thing?! 
I think we can all learn from her experience - let's break free from societal expectations and just be ourselves, flaws and all! 
I mean, being ignored or stared at just because you're not "feminine" is no good. But at the same time, I can see how shedding all that societal pressure and expectation could be really empowering... like, I've been stressing so much about my grades lately and it's nice to think about breaking free from all that 
and now she's rocking a full head of white hair like it's nothing 
! Did you know in 2020, there were over 10 million stay-at-home parents worldwide? 
That's a whopping 7% of all mothers globally. 
. A study by the World Health Organization (WHO) found that new mothers experience anxiety and depression at rates 5 times higher than the general population! 
It's no wonder many women feel overwhelmed.
| 80% 
| 60%
... it's so inspiring how finding a new sense of freedom led you to see the world in a different light. A survey I found shows that 75% of people believe that true beauty comes from within 
Anyway, the author's story is kinda wild - going from feeling invisible when she shaved her head to realizing that our appearances are what people use to judge us... 
. Your message is all about embracing individuality and being unapologetically yourself 
. It's beautiful 