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Writer's pictureAJ Gajjar

Blue Hair and Tattoos

Updated: 2 days ago


Yesterday, I got blue highlights done in my hair. Extreme? Maybe. Maybe not. It depends on how you know me. If you’re someone who has known me for a very long time, then yes, my decision seems extreme. Almost “midlife crisis” extreme. If however, you’re someone that has begun to know me more recently, my blue hair won’t seem extreme. As a friend of mine put it, “you’re just starting to express your true self”.


When I was growing up I was always faced with mutually exclusive choices. If I had one, I couldn’t have the other.


Messaging that I would internalize from how my family judged others was just that. If someone was attractive, they couldn’t be intelligent. If someone was a “good mom” (in terms of the extreme gender stereotyped version of what being a good mom meant to them), then they couldn’t possibly be well put together. If they were good at their job, they could not have an organized, well-managed household. It had to be one or the other.


For me personally, that meant if was smart, I couldn’t be pretty. If I was pretty, I couldn’t be smart. (My dad constantly pushed academics on me. That must have meant I wasn’t pretty).


I was frequently told by people outside of my family that I was pretty. I never believed it because I never felt it. And my family, (the people whose opinions that mattered to me the most) never told me I was pretty. Hence if the people closest to me didn’t think I was pretty… I couldn’t be.


I had a close family friend once tell me when I was 16, “You are one of the prettiest girls I’ve seen. But don’t you dare ever think you’re going to get through life on your looks. Your looks mean nothing”. The idea that I was seen as “pretty” became a point of shame. I became extremely self conscious about how I looked and never wanted to look good. I’d rather be smart. So I finished high school with honors and went to University. I got 2 degrees. Yet I still didn’t feel smart enough. After all, I didn’t have a PhD. And even though I was consistently getting between 90-100% in all my classes, whenever I brought home a paper graded with a 90%, my dad never failed to ask “where did the other 10% go?”.


So now I didn’t feel pretty, or smart.


Now that I am a mom, I find a similar mutual exclusivity. If I am not running ragged after my daughter, and actually put in the time to my own self-care and have my hair and nails done, and put effort into my appearance, I can’t possibly be a good mom. I’m spending too much time on myself for that. And I’ve seen how the other moms at my daughters’ school look at me because I don’t pick her up in sweat pants and a ball cap. It’s almost like a status symbol to be a worn out, exhausted mom. Because then I’m doing right by my kids.


So where does that leave those of us who are desperately working on our own self worth and self care, and enjoy dressing up and putting effort into our own appearances? Both for ourselves, because it makes us happy and feel good and because taking time for yourself is something I value and want to role model for my daughter? (I have nothing against the moms in sweat pants and ball caps by the way).


How many more mutually exclusive dynamics can there be? Pretty vs. Smart. A good mom vs. taking the time to be well put together. Being successful in your career vs. having a well run household. Being seen as a professional vs. having tattoos. I have always tried to box myself into the chosen mold I thought would help facilitate my life at the time and made my choices accordingly.


Choices that didn’t reflect me and who I wanted to be. But choices that helped keep me in the box I had chosen and hopefully gain me the external approval and validation I was seeking. Well, it never did get me the approval and validation I thought it would. I’d get close, but always fall short. Putting myself in a box and suppressing how I wanted to express myself didn’t make me happy like I thought it would either (Not to mention how incredibly angry it made my made my inner child!)


Always trying to put myself in a box is also one of the reasons I ended up being married to the person I was married to. I was just checking off a box. Being married, meant I was successful in life. I had the husband, the house, the cars, a career. From the outside looking in, I had it all. By all external, societal measures, I was successful. I had molded myself into the box. But even then, after having completely suppressed who I was, and having molded myself to the expectations of others to the point of exhaustion, I was still no closer to receiving acceptance or validation.


So now at the age of 42, I am done. Done putting myself into any sort of box for anyone. I feel free and confident to express myself in the way I want to. I have finally realized that no matter what you do, you’re not going to please everyone or get the validation you are looking for. So if I’m not going to be able to please anyone by doing exactly what they all want anyway, I might as well not please them by doing exactly what I want. At least one of us should be happy.


So, I guess you can have it all after all - if you let yourself.


I can feel pretty, AND be smart, AND be a great mom, and a professional and successful in my career!


Blue hair, tattoos and all.

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