Why every woman needs to shave her head at least once – Blavity

Never in my life did I think I would be bald. My mother loves to tell stories about how when I was younger she would often get stopped in the supermarket by women of middle-eastern descent, thinking she must have stolen me from an Indian home. Although huffy and a bit offended, she explains that she couldn’t necessarily be upset when I was in fact born with a thick head of jet black hair. “The sight of you alone would have made your Native American ancestors proud,” she says. Looking back on it, however, I suppose I was never really attached to my hair. I went through the typical middle school struggle of insecurity and angst, wanting it to be as straight and as long as possible, making it so much simpler to be ‘normal’ and ‘cool’ in the eyes of the suburban white girls I so desperately wanted to fit in with . Once I got over the slump of my awkward teen years, I found that the shorter my hair was, the freer I felt, and the easier it was to find myself. The less hair I had, the more…