By CHARLIE PICKERING
When I was a kid, my Mum thought I was going to go bald.
I had very thin, wispy locks that gave every indication that they weren’t going to go the distance. My mum, worried that I was headed for a Sampson-like crisis, decided that the best thing to do was build my confidence.
Her hope was that, by the time the inevitable depilation happened, she’d have created a young man confident enough to get by. As it turned out, by the age of fourteen my hair had rebounded to become one of the healthiest mops in the post-Garfunkle era and what she had in fact created was a monster.
Despite the outcome, there is something to be said for her thinking. Last year, during a discussion about cosmetic surgery on Q&A, I suggested that whatever people choose to do, the important thing was to not index your self-esteem to your appearance.
Judging by the response I got from people who have struggled with body image issues, or had kids who were wrestling with how they see themselves, the idea seemed to connect.
Now, whether I got it from my mum or not, I’m not entirely sure. It’s always just made sense to me. That may be because, much like my hair, I was a late-bloomer. I was smaller than my high-school peers and never really used my looks to get ahead in the world. I always had to rely on other things like my sense of humor, personality or a propensity to over-share my opinions.
It may also be that, to me, it always seemed like a terrible bet. Not a single person in the world can guarantee their looks will work for them forever. Whether we like it or not, everybody ages. Some people who are gorgeous kids make less gorgeous adults and positively weird looking seniors.