For years I grappled and fought with the bird’s nest that sat on top of my head—my Medusa mane, a composition of frizz and giant ringlets that in no way could be tamed.
Growing up in a Russian-Jewish home with parents who thought North American styling products were akin to illegal substances such as heroin, I was never allowed to put them in my hair.
“Why buy gel? Your hair is so beautiful naturally,” my mother would say.
The tweens at school did not agree. From boys not wanting to kiss me when we played spin the bottle in Grade 7 to being called “the mop,” I suffered for my unruly hair.
People always say that you want the hair you don’t have, but having unmanageable curly hair goes deeper than that. It’s like being in a war with more than your scalp—it’s your self-esteem. You feel messy and disorderly, with your curls reflecting that attitude.
When I got to university, I believed my frizzy hair was a wedge that stood between me and everything—finding an internship, getting a boyfriend.
If only I could find a way to police the frizz and put it behind bars, I told myself, I would feel secure and sexy. I tried everything: rollers, hairspray, gels and, at one point, an iron.
Then, in my second year, a miracle happened. I was asked to be a hair model for Japanese hair straightening, a process by which the molecules of my curls would be shattered and reset in a bone-straight position.
I was the perfect “before” and “after” candidate, the hairdresser told me.
Although there are rumours about how hair relaxing can damage the scalp, for the next five years I didn’t find them to be true. All of the hairdresser’s promises were fulfilled: With my strands straight and smooth in a stylish bob, I was no longer Medusa but a distant cousin of Jennifer Aniston.
However, there was extreme damage done to my wallet. To keep up the straightening cost $700 every six months, and that was considered cheap. While some people thought I was crazy, I was willing to do anything to never again feel like that frazzled , frizzy-headed girl in Grade 7.
But when I moved out of my parents’ house at age 26 and rented an apartment, the upkeep of my sleek image became too costly.
I couldn’t hide from my inner Medusa any longer. It was time to embrace her and let her fly.
Seeking an alternative to my high-end habit, I turned to the oracle that always has answers: Google.
After hours of searching, I stumbled upon a “curly haired” salon, a place designed for girls like me who were at their wits’ end.
I doubted these so-called “Curl Ambassadors” could do anything without using a contraption of some sort, and though I bought the service called the “Curly-Doo,” I suspected I’d have the same unruly mop at the end of the appointment.
I dragged my feet so hard getting there that I arrived 45 minutes late. I secretly hoped they would turn me away and give me the excuse I needed to justify the expense of relaxing again.
Instead, my stylist simply said: “You are very late. Flip your head over.”
At that moment, my world and beliefs about myself were turned upside down along with my hair.
As my head was dunked in a tub full of freezing-cold water, then generously slathered with a jelly-like substance, I wondered what I had got myself into.
“Do you really think this will work?” I asked the stylist, Jacquai. “My curls are a lost cause .”
“No curly hair is hopeless,” she replied. “They just haven’t found a way to work with it, that’s all.”
After the hour was over, Jacquai had completed her mission. She had styled my hair using only her hands, water and a mixture of organic potions.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing in the mirror: a naturally curly, Medusa-free me. You could argue that hair is just hair. Yet, it is just such physical features that have such a large sway on how we view ourselves.
According to Jacquai, 75 percent of the population have a wave or curl in their hair and don’t know what to do with it. Men cut theirs short. Women flat-iron theirs to death.
When I browse through a beauty magazine or take the subway to work, it makes me sad to see so many people repressing their natural beauty.
Since I tamed my locks, my world has changed. I have always been outgoing, but these days I seem to be more outspoken and self-assured than ever. On top of that, the compliments haven’t stopped coming.
Friends and co-workers tell me I am looking better than ever, but they can’t pinpoint the source of the change.
I don’t need to tell them. My Medusa mane sways and speaks for herself.
Vocabulary
1. 這些年我一直在努力和我頭上的鳥巢作斗爭——我的美杜莎式的濃密的頭發(fā)，卷卷的，很硬，還向下垂著，沒有什么辦法可以讓它們服服帖帖的。grapple: 努力解決(問題);Medusa: 【希神】美杜莎(三個蛇發(fā)女怪之一)，因觸犯雅典娜，頭發(fā)變成毒蛇;mane: 濃密的頭發(fā);frizz: (頭發(fā)的)鬈曲，下文的frizzy是它的形容詞形式;ringlet: (垂下的)長卷發(fā);tame: 馴服。
2. styling product: 美發(fā)產(chǎn)品;akin: 相似的，類似的;heroin: 海洛因。
3. gel: 發(fā)膠。
4. tween: 由“teen”和“between”兩個單詞合成，指的是10到12歲，也就是兒童中期到青春期之前的年齡段;spin the bottle: 轉(zhuǎn)瓶子游戲，參與者要轉(zhuǎn)動空瓶子并親吻瓶子停止后所指向的那個人;mop: 拖把;suffer: 感到(痛苦);unruly: 凌亂的。
5. scalp: 頭皮;self-esteem: 自尊。
6. wedge: (用來固定門的)楔子，三角木。
7. 我對自己說，要是我能夠控制這些硬硬的卷發(fā)，把他們投進(jìn)監(jiān)獄，那我就會感到安全和性感了。police: v. 控制，監(jiān)督。
8. molecule: 分子;shatter: (使)碎裂;reset: 調(diào)整。
9. hair relaxing: 頭發(fā)拉直。
10. strand: (頭發(fā)等的)股，縷，綹;bob: (女式)齊短發(fā)，蘑菇頭，波波頭;Jennifer Aniston: 珍妮弗?安妮斯頓，美國影星，頭發(fā)為直發(fā)。
11. frazzled: 疲憊不堪的。
12. upkeep: 保養(yǎng)，養(yǎng)護(hù);sleek: (頭發(fā))柔順亮澤的。
13. embrace: (欣然)接受。
14. alternative: 替代;high-end: 高端的，最昂貴的;oracle: 能提供最佳建議的人，能提供最佳信息的書。
15. stumble upon: 偶然發(fā)現(xiàn);salon: 沙龍;at one’s wits’ end: 智窮才盡，無計(jì)可施。
16. contraption: 奇妙的裝置，新奇玩意兒。
17. justify: 證明(決定、行為或想法)正當(dāng)，表明……必要。
18. stylist: 發(fā)型師;flip: (使)移動，(使)轉(zhuǎn)動。
19. dunk: 浸，泡;slather: 大量地涂抹，厚厚地涂抹。
20. lost cause: 已告失敗(必將失敗)的事業(yè)。
21. potion: 藥水。
22. sway: 影響， 下文的sway用得是它的動詞性，意為影響(某人)，使改變看法。
23. flat-iron: 用夾板夾。
24. browse through: 瀏覽，翻閱;repress: 壓制，壓抑。
25. locks: 頭發(fā)。
26. self-assured: 自信的。
27. compliment: 贊揚(yáng)。
28. pinpoint: 確認(rèn)，準(zhǔn)確解釋(或說明)。
