Up until my late 20’s, I would do everything within my power to obliterate my naturally curly hair. Armed with a copious variety of smoothing products, I would comb, dry and heat-iron my locks bone straight. Imagine my disappointment when, upon leaving my house on a humid or rainy day, unruly weather would render my long, hard work positively useless.
I thought I would be prettier / more likeable / closer to perfection if I looked like the women I saw in Pantene Pro-V ads, splayed across magazine spreads and on television. Donning smooth, shiny and silky hair devoid of even a single fly-away, they appeared to be sheer perfection.
But one day, that all changed. It was the day I decided to embrace my curls and say ‘fuggit’.
Fuggit to hours of primping and prying my hair into an unnatural state.
Fuggit to the perception that if I didn’t look like the models I saw in ads, I would in some way be imperfect and less loveable.
Looking back now, I realize that this was about more than just my hair. This was about the beginning of understanding that a perfect state simply doesn’t exist and that it’s ridiculous to try to achieve it.
Fuggit to conventions.
Fuggit to rules.
Fuggit to the need to fit into some sort of box that’s built for us based on our:
- Skin colour
- Limiting beliefs
- Couldas, shouldas or wouldas
And the list goes on and on.
Fuggit to anything and everything that tells us we can’t do or be, what or who we want to, in this world.
So tell me: what do you say fuggit to?