On Vanity

Over the course of my short life, I have developed certain quirks. Being pretty self-aware and comfortable with myself, I have never sought to eradicate these quirks. Quite to the contrary, in fact. I have embraced them, developed others. I enjoy my non-conformity and simple pleasures. As time has passed, these little eccentricities have become points of pride.

The thing is, even a healthy pride can easily become unhealthy. C. S. Lewis calls pride "The Great Sin" for a reason.

I started thinking about this recently after a conversation with my friend Kate. We were skyping, and she commented on my hair, which at that point had not been cut in about three months. I like my hair shaggy, so I took the comment on its length as something of a compliment. However, she then mentioned how it looked a bit unkempt and asked if I brush or comb it.

Kate has a knack for consciously or unconsciously driving right to the heart of a lot of my issues.

I have never been a person who goes to a lot of effort in personal appearance. That is not to say that I am a slovenly individual or anything like that, but I just don't care enough to get stylish clothes, and I have never styled my hair or used any sort of product in it other than shampoo and conditioner (excluding theatre of course, where a number of strange things have been done to my hair). I like keeping my hair more natural. It is healthier, and I am content with it's appearance. I don't need to use a comb because even when it gets to a shaggier length, it doesn't really get knots, and it usually falls the way I like it all on its on. I pride myself on this, and at times it has given me pleasure to brag that no comb or brush has touched my head in three months. I thought myself humble, a better person than others perhaps, just because I don't expend a lot of effort on my hair.

During our conversation, Kate eventually compelled me to brush my hair in front of her. It surprised me how much I chafed against such a simple thing, especially considering the fact that brushing hair is healthy for it, even more so when it gets longer, as mine was becoming.

I realized then that my abstinence from the culture's fixation on hair treatment had itself become a kind of vanity--an unhealthy obsession. As a friend of mine put it recently: "I strive so horribly much to be abnormal and by doing so I become normal." Funny how that happens.

I am brushing my hair more regularly now. I got it trimmed, so it still doesn't need to be combed, but I am working on making my attitude toward that one of a simple fact of life rather than one of vain pride. And I am examining other areas in my life so that I can eradicate any pride that may have likewise crept in.