I studied Romeo and Juliet in H.S. and my favorite part is when Juliet says,
“What’s in a name? That which we call a rose. By any other name would smell as sweet.”
In that scene Juliet is telling Romeo, eff names, I could care less what your name was. I’m in love with you not the name, not with your family.
Juliet tells Romeo that your name carries no weight in my decision to love you, I love you because you are you.
This line always comes to my mind when I think about hair. What’s in hair? Are we truly not our hair? Or are we our hair? Have we fallen so deep in love with hair that we forget about the person who wears the hair. Is hair really that serious to birth and cause divides between Natural Nazi and Creamy Crack Addicts?
Do you think that hair is powerful? I have had several occasion when I wanted to cut off my hair as if my hair kept me in bondage. As if when I cut it off I would gain some sense of freedom and my inner strength would shine through. I don’t know why I get that urge whenever I’m going through something to start chopping but it’s always there. Where does the root of that desire come from?
What’s in Hair?