I was 16 years old and doing my obligatory time working at a popular fast food restaurant in the small town where I grew up. The manager had just sent me to the basement for some supplies and as I came back upstairs and around a corner, the popular girl (let’s call her Jen here) barreled into me – her eyes wide, her hands over her mouth in the largest expression I had ever seen on her. In fact, I couldn’t quite interpret it. Granted I wasn’t very good at such things back then, but she was blubbering on so fast I couldn’t figure out what was going on, and it’s not like I could stand there and chat – I had supplies to deliver!
“Jen! Jen, stop! What’s going on?” I tried to get her to tell me quickly because it honestly seemed like an emergency. “Oh my god! This guy! He…!” She couldn’t get a word out and my manager called for me to bring the supplies and I knew I had to hurry, so I tried again…“Jen – I have to take these up, so if you’re going to say something, say it now.” I tried to look sternly in her eyes, but I doubt I was any good at it. At age 16 I was pretty shy.
She looked at me, surprised, (I was too – I’d never even tried to look stern unless I was babysitting my brothers before). She was still blubbering incoherently though, so I began to leave. Finally, as I was turning to go she put her hand on my shoulder and spoke, “There’s a guy up there! He’s…he’s like the weirdest guy I’ve ever seen! His – his hair!!”
Seriously? She’d left her station and acted like the place was getting raided because someone was different? I was very grateful I had to leave now. So I turned and left and gave my manager the supplies and went up front to my register and there he was – the “weirdest guy ever”. He was my boyfriend.
Yep – the guy that had Jen all in a flutter was my boyfriend of a few months now, and he had come in with his hair in a spiked mohawk. His ears had already been pierced, so now people could really see the jewelry. I smiled hugely. He was my first love and so I still smile when I think of him, I always will. I smiled 1st and foremost because he was there and I loved him being near. I smiled 2nd because I loved looking at him (he was very handsome) and 3rd because when he was near wonderful things always happened – he was a very thought provoking young man. Now I had a 4th reason to smile – that mohawk. I adored him for always being unapologetically him and I thought it was sweet that he came and showed it to me right away.
At the time, I was growing up in a strict, religious home that was far too confining for who I was inside. I yearned to fly free but cried at night before I met him, thinking it was impossible. He came and showed me it was not impossible. I could do anything I wanted to do. I was worth it! Now here he stood in front of me with that magnificent hair – that crown of rebellion – and my spirit soared a little higher.
We spoke and then he had to leave. Jen rushed at me the moment he did. “You talked to him!”
“He’s my boyfriend,” I said.
She didn’t seem to hear me – I often laugh at people who don’t hear responses simply because it wasn’t what they expected you to say. I seldom stick to their ‘script’.
“I can’t believe you talked to him! What did he say?” she asked me.
*sigh* So many thoughts inside my head…
That’s when it all clicked for me. All that mattered to her was his hair. His hair was different and thus he was different. He had come in dozens of times before and she had never noticed him. In fact, before his ear piercings, she had even flirted with him. Now she remembered none of that. All she knew was that he was strange.
“I told you, he’s my boyfriend.” I reminded her.
…stunned silence for a while. Well at least this time she heard me. More words were exchanged, but nothing important. She was shocked, because I was one type and he was another and that was that. The funny thing is that without her reaction before I went up front, I would’ve gone up and seen just another hairstyle on the man I loved – nothing more. Instead his hair had given me street cred in her eyes and to me – that was the strange part of the day.
Through her eyes I learned a valuable lesson. I learned all about ego and falseness and trueness of self and what people mean when they say “weird” or “strange”. Apparently it can mean being yourself, telling the truth, and not reading from the ‘script’.
To put it simply, I learned that hair can make or break a person…but only if you’re a breakable person in the first place.
Oh and my hair? My hair is now a magnificent purple. I’m so well known for it that it’s even listed that way on a government ID card.
So be yourself – whether it’s through your hair, your clothes, your speech or your toenails. Personally, I like to stand out a little bit. It helps me weed out those people who, like Jen, think such things are ‘strange’. It helps me find people who know how to look at the inner self instead.
…and since you’ve stuck with me this far, here’s a small collection of other mohawks that made me smile: