I believe in the power of messy hair, “long, beautiful, shining, gleaming, streaming, flaxen, waxen” hair–even though I didn’t start out with any. For the first two years of my life I was as bald as my dad. No matter how much pink my mother dressed me up in it didn’t stop people passing by from calling me “the cutest baby boy”. Living in Amsterdam at the time, a Dutch woman asked my mother “why is that little boy wearing a dress?” Luckily, I managed to escape unscathed from this potential gender identity crisis.

Once I finally moved on from this phase and grew a head of blond curls it wasn’t long until I realized the curse that curly hair would prove. Untamable, iconic Jewish curls, a gift from the Weinstein tribe. The battle began with the curl that cannot be tamed without the help of ten rabbis or an hour of straightening. My daily dilemma became either to get up early to straighten my hair or sleep longer and have to fight with a crown of uncontrollable curls. My next best friends became bobby pins, headbands, and hairspray.

After a few years of a struggle I have come to realize was ridiculous I renounced the use of my flat iron and clips; subsequently freeing myself from being a slave to my hair. By leaving my hair alone it had finally become my own. And even though it didn’t fit in with the norm, I had never felt better about it. In the grand scheme of things my hair is undoubtedly insignificant, but for the moment it keeps me sane by reminding me nobody and nothing is perfect.

There are a lot of things in life that will drive you crazy if you let them: gossip, test scores, or real world plans. Sometimes it can feel like there’s an insane amount of pressure pushing on you’re from all angles, and that’s when it’s important to just let certain things be. My tresses help me through the stresses. When I decide to leave my hair unbrushed, I’m preparing to breathe through the next difficult situation I encounter. But my hair is more than just a shaggy mop on top of my head; it’s a personal metaphor for what I believe. And I believe in the power of messy, un-brushed, bed head hair.