Crowned

Yesterday, a new acquaintance said that I have “Disney Princess hair.” Wow, that was a first! I’ve been sitting with those words for hours now, trying to decipher my feelings around them.

To be honest, I never know quite how to feel when someone compliments my hair. I accept the kudos with thanks, of course, but praise about my hair in particular always leaves me feeling a little…weird.

On one hand, I am flattered and appreciative that someone would go out of their way to say something affirming, and I totally receive it in the spirit in which it’s given. I think it is so generous when people make the effort to get nice thoughts about someone else out of their own heads and into the ears of the person they thought about. We all need affirmation, and I think the world would be a better place if we all did this a little more often.

On the other hand, I find that my experience of a compliment varies wildly depending on whether I think the compliment is actually mine to receive. A kind comment about my eyes or my smile makes me feel delighted, inflated, and uplifted. A compliment about my hair often leaves me feeling flattered but also just a little deflated, knowing it’s not truly *my* hair. For some reason this makes me feel almost guilty, like I am accepting praise under false pretenses, or good grades for work I didn’t do myself. I find myself worrying what the other person would think or say if they knew the truth.

Funny, if someone complimented my sweater or my jacket, I would feel flattered that they liked my sense of style and wouldn’t worry that I hadn’t actually made the clothing myself. Perhaps I could work harder to put my hair in the same mental category as clothing. After all, I chose this hair, I wake up and style this hair, and it has been mine for over 9 years now. It would be nice to learn to just enjoy the compliment without indulging in any accompanying mental gymnastics.

As I was pondering all of this in the middle of the night, my mind wandered from princesses and crowns to hair being called our “crowning glory,” and then a memory popped into mind which will forever delight my heart. A few years ago, my son found a bejeweled toy crown in our dress up box. He carried it into my bedroom and proudly put it right on my bare head, loudly declaring me to be a “beautiful princess.” My sweet boy. What a magnificent reminder that I am a beautiful princess, and it has nothing whatsoever to do with my hair.