Chapter 19 - maisie went bald for school pictures and hated my reaction
School picture day nearly taught me the wrong lesson.
Maisie was six.
She stood in front of the bathroom mirror holding two options.
Her repaired blonde wig.
A purple headband.
“What do you want?”
I asked.
She shrugged.
“Headband.”
“Okay.”
She put it on.
No wig.
Her smooth scalp fully visible.
I became emotional immediately.
“Maisie.”
“What?”
“You look beautiful.”
She stared.
“I know.”
Then I made it worse.
“I’m proud of you.”
“For what?”
I stopped.
Good question.
“For being confident.”
She frowned.
“I just don’t want wig today.”
Exactly.
I had turned baldness into bravery.
As if the natural state of her body required courage.
Maisie removed the headband.
“Do I have to be brave?”
“No.”
“Because picture?”
“No.”
“Can I wear wig tomorrow?”
“Of course.”
She stared suspiciously.
“Then why proud?”
I had no good answer.
Audrey did.
Later.
“You’re still treating the wig like the wedding.”
“That’s unfair.”
“Yes.”
“But also true.”
I hated her.
She continued.
“When Maisie wears it, you see Celeste.”
“When she takes it off, you see victory.”
“What if she just sees hair?”
That sentence changed something.
The next week Maisie wore the wig to school because she wanted a sparkly barrette.
I said nothing except:
“Nice barrette.”
She smiled.
Perfect.
Years later she would teach me that recovery did not mean rejecting the object someone once damaged.
Nor did self-acceptance mean refusing it.
The wig belonged to her.
May you like
So did baldness.
Neither needed to become a statement unless she chose one.
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