Friday, April 11, 2014

Embracing My Widow’s Peak


“Mom, why does my hairline come to a point in the middle of my forehead?” I asked one day while staring at myself in my parent’s bathroom mirror. “I don’t know why, but look mine grows like that too.” My Mom answered while pointing to her almost perfect hairline.
This pesky V-shaped point has sat at the top of my forehead my entire life. But it didn’t start to annoy me until I got to middle school. I was at that age when all girls become aware of their “imperfections” and wished they could change them. My “imperfection,” my widow’s peak.

Although it was something I never got made fun of for having, at least not to my face, I hated that part of my hairline. I often thought of it as the part of my hair that didn’t want to cooperate. It was like it wanted to stand out from the rest, screaming “hey everyone, look at me.” But I didn’t want any attention drawn to it.
Fact is my widow’s peak made me very self-conscious, and I was uncomfortable and embarrassed of it. In my mind it was the first thing people saw when they looked at me.
I often felt different, like I didn’t fit in because I had one. And in the rare event when I did see a person with a widow’s peak, I always thought theirs wasn't as bad as mine.
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