Altered Jeans not Altered People

When I was a little girl, my mother, cousin, neighbor, grandmother, and grandmother's neighbor,

all went to great lengths to try to curl my straight hair. I rebelled and brushed out the curls. By the time they gave up, I wanted curly hair. I used hot rollers, curling irons, gel, mousse, and hair spray to no avail. “You can't curl sticks.” my great-grandfather used to tell my mother when she was a little girl. My curly haired friends spend hours straightening their hair. My brown haired friends bleach their hair blond. I already have straight blond hair. What am I doing?

Hair is a minor thing that we change about ourselves. There are other changes we choose to make; tanning our skin, trying to lighten our skin, collagen injections, botulism (a sometimes fatal paralytic illness) injections, and plastic surgery, like brow lifts, nose jobs, liposuction, and implants (breast, or chin, or cheekbones, or whatever else there is).

People say that we should be true to ourselves, be who we really are on the inside. I wonder how a person can be true to who they are on the inside when focused on conforming the outward appearance to some perceived ideal, especially when that person claims to be a “Christian” made by God, in His image, and after His likeness, yet insists on tampering with God's creation, as if God didn't do it right.

LOVE DISLIKES NOTHING

Whatsoever thing I see,

Rich or poore although it be;

'Tis a Mistresse unto mee.

Be my Girle, or faire, or browne,

Do's she smile, or do's she frowne:

Still I write a Sweet-heart downe.

Be she rough, or smooth of skin;

When I touch, I then begin

For to let Affection in.

Be she bald, or do's she weare

Locks incurl'd of other haire;

I shall find enchantment there.

Be she whole, or be she rent,

So my fancie be content,

She's to me most excellent.

Be she fat, or be she leane,

Be she sluttish, be she cleane,

I'm a man for ev'ry Sceane.

Robert Herrick (1591-1674)