Roots and Rebellion
For a few people like me, hair meant complete autonomy, a tangible sense of freedom. That’s because, back when I was growing up, I had zero control over it. When I look at kids nowadays with their effortlessly fashionable hairstyles, I can't help but feel a little embarrassed looking back at my own childhood photos and the weird cuts I was sporting. Shaving off my birth hair at the age of two was a non-negotiable ritual. I don’t remember much about it myself, except through the stories my parents tell. I was a shy toddler back then; in little squabbles with the neighbourhood kids, I was always the one who got beaten up. But my parents swear that after my head was shaved, I developed such a fierce personality that I would chase away any kid who annoyed me. Soon enough, they were all too scared to even play with me. My next major haircut came out of my own foolishness. Having caught head lice from a classmate, I was so fascinated by the discovery that I proudly proclaimed it to my mo...