Growing up, my friends and I thought being beautiful would make our lives easier. But beauty only made things more difficult
My MOTHER used to comb my hair almost every week. The plastic pick comb would break, and she’d replace it with another one. She’d use oil and rub it into my scalp. I would cry without tears. She would console me with a voice that sounded both threatening and empathetic.
Growing up, my friends and I thought being beautiful would make our lives easier. But beauty only made things more difficult
My MOTHER used to comb my hair almost every week. The plastic pick comb would break, and she’d replace it with another one. She’d use oil and rub it into my scalp. I would cry without tears. She would console me with a voice that sounded both threatening and empathetic.
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The Price of Being Pretty
Growing up, my friends and I thought being beautiful would make our lives easier. But beauty only made things more difficult
My MOTHER used to comb my hair almost every week. The plastic pick comb would break, and she’d replace it with another one. She’d use oil and rub it into my scalp. I would cry without tears. She would console me with a voice that sounded both threatening and empathetic.
Rekha gupta
Mom of 2 children
