Most days now, my son doesn’t say anything when I apply makeup. It’s just part of our routine, as normal as packing his school bag. But sometimes, he still asks: “Why cover the redness? Why blonde hair? Why draw in your brows?”
I have the practical reasons on-hand – the eczema, the roots, the brows. But he deserves more than just practical reasons.
“Why do you care what others think?” he asks. “Don’t care about them.” One day, he’ll feel that pressure too, but not yet.
So, I tell him honestly: I’m still working out how to explain this properly, and when I do, I’ll tell you.
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.
I’ve stopped pretending the contradiction doesn’t exist.
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 – often all at once.
Maybe it’s not about leaving yourself untouched but understanding why you make the choices you do and examining the reasons behind them.
I still don’t have a perfect explanation for my son. Perhaps I never will.
But I think there is value in letting him see that adults are still figuring themselves out too.
