\n<\/p>\n
Most days now, my son doesn\u2019t say anything when I apply makeup. It\u2019s just part of our routine, as normal as packing his school bag. But sometimes, he still asks: \u201cWhy cover the redness? Why blonde hair? Why draw in your brows?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n I have the practical reasons on-hand <\/span>\u2013<\/span> the eczema, the roots, the brows. But he deserves more than just practical reasons.<\/span><\/p>\n \u201cWhy do you care what others think?\u201d he asks. \u201cDon\u2019t care about them.\u201d One day, he\u2019ll feel that pressure too, but not yet.<\/span><\/p>\n So, I tell him honestly: I\u2019m still working out how to explain this properly, and when I do, I\u2019ll tell you.<\/span><\/p>\n I also just want to have fun with how I look, like the elderly aunties who colour their white hair pastel purple. I plan to do that too, when my hair turns completely white. But I understand his point.<\/span><\/p>\n I\u2019ve stopped pretending the contradiction doesn\u2019t exist.<\/span><\/p>\n The truth is, adulthood rarely offers the kind of clean, uncomplicated principles we try to instil in our children. We learn to balance practicality, self-expression, insecurity, confidence, ageing, health, social expectations and personal choice\u00a0<\/span>\u2013<\/span> often all at once.<\/span><\/p>\n Maybe it\u2019s not about leaving yourself untouched but understanding why you make the choices you do and examining the reasons behind them.<\/span><\/p>\n