Bows In My Hair

Yes I have been emotional lately, yes I have not been sleeping well, and yes..several days ago I found myself crying over 4 words, “bows in my hair.”

There is a chance this would not have upset me if I was feeling better, but feelings are feelings and they are very real when they come.

I scrolled through many pictures of me as a child under the age of 6. Bow, bow, bow, picture after picture. By bow, I mean those tiny bow hair clips.

My childhood was confusing. I was given so many hugs, received so many I love you’s, and never went without the things I needed. The confusing part was that there was so much hurt, so much emotional neglect, and abuse by my father that went unnoticed by too many. I didn’t always feel seen or safe. I wasn’t always treated like a person.

But then… there were bows in my hair?

I cannot wrap my head around it, though I am starting to understand.

I went to school dressed in Gymboree outfits from my grandparents. Teachers saw a sweet, shy, small, well-behaved little girl. They had no reason to suspect anything other than that.

There I was just recently, crying on my bathroom floor, looking at some childhood photos. I remembered that the parent who hurt me the most enjoyed doing my hair the most. I sometimes struggle to have compassion for that little girl. I see her dressed in disguise. It wasn’t her doing. It wasn’t her fault, but I ask myself so many questions. If my parents didn’t spend so much time on my hair, if I wasn’t dressed in clean, nice clothes, would they have noticed? Would my teachers have noticed, or wondered? Would they ask if there was more to my shyness and kindness?

Then I feel guilty. I was told “I love you” and I had things when other kids didn’t. I don’t know how to see my childhood sometimes. Yes, actions speak louder than words, but I was shown both sides. Should I be disturbed or grateful? Can I be both? Is it bad if I don’t always feel grateful? I didn’t need things, I needed safety. I didn’t need to be told I was loved, I needed to feel it.

What I do know is that having bows in my hair has a greater meaning to me now. It allowed the world and my family outside my household, to believe everything was fine. It made me believe that despite how sad I would feel, I was expected to smile with those clips in my hair. Every day would be school picture day in my life.

Don’t get me wrong, I imagine I loved the bow clips. I probably even loved my parents doing my hair. That was my life. However, when you grow up, you can look back and see so many things differently. I can see how many photos masked my story.

I want to look back at photos of little me and see her, not the bows in my hair.