My daughter wanted her hair cut.
While that might sound like a perfectly normal request from a six-year-old girl, it just about broke my heart.
"What?!" I half-cried, half-yelled, when she began nudging me.
"I hate my hair long," she insisted, tossing her golden locks.
Her sentiments tore at a thick veil of romantic notions that has been strung across my heart since before she was born. In my mind's eye I could always picture my daughter with a curtain of blond hair cascading past her shoulders, gently framing her shining face. It had taken me a full two-and-a-half years to even so much as trim her hair. The closest thing to a haircut she'd ever experienced was a daring two inches snipped -- and even then I'd cried.
But how could she possibly understand?
I never imagined that I would be this sentimental kind of person. One mother I'd encountered during my teen years had forbidden her daughters from ever cutting their hair -- no doubt she subscribed to the same "long-haired cherub" syndrome which I later developed. At the time, though, I thought she was really nuts. The end of that story came back to haunt me when my own daughter made her request. Her daughters cut their hair when they hit their teens. Whether it was a show of rebellion or a symbol of coming into their own, it was definite food for thought.
"All my friends wear their hair short. I think it's so much prettier that way," my daughter persisted, breaking into my swirling emotions.
I took a deep breath and with great effort subdued my knee-jerk response (an unequivocal "No!") and tried to switch to a more rational tack.
There are many issues that my daughter and I struggle with every day. She wants to wear a certain outfit for five days straight; I lay down the law. She would like to organize a sleepover party for four of her best friends; I refuse. She'd rather that my suppers consist entirely of macaroni and cheese -- every night; I cannot, in good conscience, accommodate her. Was a haircut really worth fighting over?
Was a haircut really worth fighting over? My brain was telling me "no," my heart was screaming "yes!"
My brain was telling me "no," my heart was screaming "yes!" What to do? My emotional attachment to my daughter's hair runs so deep that after my husband's awkward attempt to trim her bangs, I burst into tears, yelling, "What did you do to my baby?!" We're talking big time attachment here! Maybe, though, it was time to let go.
My brain won.
I won't say it was easy but I carefully folded up the cherished image in my heart of a dreamy, long-haired child and made an appointment at the hairdresser for the very next day.
She was so excited she could barely sit still, and afterwards she admired herself endlessly in the mirror. And me? I passed the test with flying colors -- externally, that is. I held in my tears, my raw mix of disappointment, emotion, and a curious pain, and watched the transformation between what I had wished, and what she had wanted. What I had lost, and what I had found. And when she turned to me with a smile of pure joy on her face, I knew I had made the right decision. I had let go.
I was surprised by how childish I could be. Just because I'm a mother doesn't mean I no longer need to learn to grow up and look beyond my own wants. While many of my parenting decisions are grounded in truly wanting to do what's best for my child, there are those occasional issues that, when pared down to their core, reveal an ulterior motive.
As parents, we raise our children while simultaneously struggling with being children ourselves. In guiding our children and setting up rules, goals, and structure for them, it's often hard to remove ourselves -- our own egos -- from the picture. In the recesses of our minds, we hold aspirations and images of who we want our children to be, and all too easily fall into the trap of trying to mold them into the shape of our dreams. Many of our aspirations for them are noble and will benefit our children greatly. But some dreams may be borne from pure self, desires that can sabotage our children and ourselves. It is those questionably motivated convictions that I want to become more aware of and ultimately, let go of.
I think that in letting go, I've given my daughter a gift more precious than she -- or I -- could possibly imagine. And by the way, post-haircut, she looks absolutely beautiful. Exactly the way I've always pictured her in my mind's eye.
(15) Anonymous, February 10, 2006 12:00 AM
haircuts
Hey! My daughter is now liking super short haircuts and follows her friends!!! i insists on that but she never listens to me.
(14) Anonymous, June 6, 2005 12:00 AM
:-)
Ah, but her hair really is beautiful...I'm sad that she cut it and I've only seen her around half a dozen times. [Give her some time...she'll want it to be long again...probably longer than you'll want! ;-) ]
(13) claire, May 15, 2005 12:00 AM
that is being controlling
(12) Esther Charna Malka, April 1, 2005 12:00 AM
Excellent article
I felt this was a beautiful and valuable lesson. I really enjoy reading your articles. For the annonymous writer who commented below, I think unfortunately they missed the beauty of the article as well as the message behind it.
(11) Hannah Joy, March 25, 2005 12:00 AM
Thank You for sharing...
Dear Riva,
Thank you for sharing your story and heart with us, it is so moving.
Sometimes it is so difficult to let go,
may Hashem richly bless you for making the right decision, hard as it was.
(10) Anonymous, March 24, 2005 12:00 AM
Careful, Mom
Better ease up, Mom. FEEL what you want, but you are WAY too candid with her about your feelings concerning her hair, and her whole appearance. Leave her some privacy! Her rebellions could get a LOT worse later! You are asking for trouble. It's intrusive. Careful. And - what if she turns out to be not especially pretty - she needs to know you love her for herself. Yes, that can happen. Discretion!
(9) Yocheved Golani, March 23, 2005 12:00 AM
Tzaar Gidul Banim
Child-raising means teaching youngsters how to walk & to talk so that they can walk away and speak for themselves at appropriate ages. We grow with them as we let go. They can thus become menschen and we can be proud of having helped them to become straight and strong. A bittersweet and worthwhile endeavor, child-rearing is not for cowards.
(8) renee, March 23, 2005 12:00 AM
great and very very true
I also had a very similar story,but mine was letting go when my son had to go to college. Letting go of the kids is very difficult but very necessary.
(7) Anonymous, March 22, 2005 12:00 AM
timely for me!
I felt this article speaking for me in a generalized way. I was shopping with my soon to be 12 year old daughter for holiday clothes. She was content with something simpler, whereas I had always envisioned more sophisticated, teen-age like. That's when I realized she was still innocent and wholesome-and it was I who was corrupted!
(6) Shoshana H., March 22, 2005 12:00 AM
Excellent... Once Again
What a wonderful, sweet article. I think you definitely made the right decision in allowing your daughter to get the haircut she wanted. I believe that the lesson about "cutting loose" was not only a healthy one for you - as a mother - to learn, but for your daughter to learn as well. Parents like you allow children to grow up healthy and independent. They can learn to make their own choices and their own mistakes, and they'll be better people for it. I can also just imagine why you would be sentimental about your daughter's hair; I have a niece with beautiful blonde hair, and if I was her mother I would never let her cut it! (Although now that I've read this article, perhaps I would have a different opinion!) Great job, as usual!
(5) Anonymous, March 21, 2005 12:00 AM
Cutting a child's long beautiful hair, could be made into a mitzvah
My four year old had the most, soft beautiful hair with soft banana curls. It was most lovely just after a bath, when there were no knots. However, brushing her hair at any point other than in the tub with her hair laden with conditioner was so traumatic that I would give her baths just to brush her mane. She grew tired of this and eventually asked to if she could cut her hair. I loved her hair- people commented on how lovely it was and I did not want to part with it. But when my older daughter decided to cut her hair for Locks of Love, we decided my four year old could do the same. And so off we all went to cut both girls hair. Yes, I did cry when the hairdresser snipped off her ponytail, but at least her hair was being donated for a good cause. And she looked adorable in her short bob.
(4) leah finkelstein, March 21, 2005 12:00 AM
yasher koach!
yes, i agree with you on the no macaroni everyday!!!lol
but, seriously, i learned this one from a friend, "Win were you can." meaning, give in to your kids on the small things and this will give you a little more leverage for the bigger things...but as for the haircut? i remember my son's upsherin......there is a picture of me with my mouth wide open as i am cutting THE most beautiful FULL PONYTAIL of hair with all of it's ringlets.....sigghhhhhhhh.......i understand and you did the right thing and it is ok to have your sentimental emotions and you did well for keeping them inside, too. YOU ARE HUMAN!!!!!!YASHER KOACH!!!!!!!!
(3) Anonymous, March 20, 2005 12:00 AM
Timing
How interesting, considering I've been begging my parents to take me for a haircut for months now... Maybe I'll have them read this wonderful article. (Although they have no sentiment left with my hair, since it no longer is such a beautiful color.) Great job!
(2) Anonymous, March 20, 2005 12:00 AM
My mother should read this one!!!
I can fully understand your hesitation, and I say yasher koach for allowing your daughter to make her own decision.
Parents often have "castles in the air" which they expect their children to inherit, but they have to remember that one day their little ones will grow up and have to make their own decisions. You can't always dictate your child's life, which is an important lesson for all of us to remember.
Thank you again Mrs. Pomerantz for giving us all those little life lessons that are so easy to forget.
(P.S. I can definitely relate to the hair attachment - I have it, too, along with all my other "romantic notions")
(1) Helene Lockspeiser, March 20, 2005 12:00 AM
Use her hair for tzedakah
There is an organization in Israel, Zichron Menachem, that collects hair - in a braid, 8 inches or longer - to make wigs for Israeli children with cancer. Both of my daughters and I grew, and then cut, our beautiful long hair for this cause, and we know how much it was appreciated by the organization. Please consider this beautiful tzedakah!