Sanity Check: Whose Hair Is It Anyway?

Whose hair is it anyway?

That’s the question parents and kids must, sooner or later, try to answer.

When kids are little, sure, their hair is technically theirs, because it is attached to their heads. But really—emotionally and practically speaking—little kids’ hair belongs to their parents.

As little girls, my daughters happily let me brush their hair as part of a bedtime ritual.

They let me put their hair up in wispy pigtails, and grinned when I cooed at them about how they looked, adorably, like “Cindy-Lou Who” from the animated version of Dr. Seuss’s “How the Grinch Stole Christmas.”

They endured getting their hair set in soft rollers, or gelled up into top knots.

They even thanked me for lumpy French braids that never lasted more than half an hour.

But then… when adolescence kicked in… my daughters’ hair became strictly off-limits from mama’s ministrations.

Meanwhile, when I heard of parents being alarmed by their children wanting to do things to their hair that isn’t quite mainstream (hot pink tips, anyone?), I always haughtily thought, oh for heaven’s sake; it’s just hair! It’ll grow out eventually, anyway, and besides, hairstyles aren’t permanent like tattoos or piercings, so if a kid wants to experiment with his or her hair…

(As my husband likes to say, one always does one’s best parenting before one has to actually face a new kid stage.)

But when my kids came to me with their own I-wanna-mess-with-my hair requests, I felt a sudden surge of sympathy to those parents of hot pink tipped kids.

It wasn’t quite so easy, any more, to say, “it’s just hair,” even though what my daughters wanted was far more subtle and conventional: highlights.

Before I could respond, I had to think through what was giving me discomfort about what should have been a pretty non-surprising request.

And I finally realized: my discomfort comes from the fact that my kids’ hair is now… their hair. Not just technically. But emotionally and practically, too.

Sure, I’m the one who can say “yes” or “no” to the highlights, because I’m the one paying for them.

But it’s been a long, long time since I fixed my daughters’ hair. Chances are good my daughters aren’t going to want my help with their hair again. And hair has been a powerful symbol throughout all of human history.

So on one level, my kids were just asking for highlights—no big deal. But on another level, the desire to make their own decisions with their hair symbolizes another wish, to establish independence as much as possible.

I found myself wondering… did I really want to let hairstyle issues become a power struggle by saying “no?” But if I said “yes,” was I giving them too much power? By worrying over such questions at all, was I making a beehive hairdo out of a top knot?

In the end, I said “yes” to the highlighting request. My kids are going to become independent adults eventually anyway—at least, I hope so. If making their own hairstyling decisions helps the process, so be it.

Later, I had to admit to my daughters, the highlights—thanks to our wonderful stylist—look very nice.

What I won’t admit to them is that, even so, I’m just a little sentimental for those Cindy Lou Who pigtails.