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August 2022 Fiction Contest: Permanent Hair Straightening
The sizzling of the hair straightener and the nauseating heat outside make me dizzy. The hairdresser yanks my hair with one hand, the other wiping away his sweat. His hands keep pushing the straightener too far up my roots, burning my scalp with every swipe. I bite my lips, fist clenched.
It hurts?
He asks me.
A bit.
Well, beauty is pain, right?
I laugh politely, looking down at my thighs. Maybe I should start working out again. The hairdresser irons the last strand of my hair. Looking into the mirror, I wonder if this cycle is ever going to end.
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I am a rising senior from Hanoi, Vietnam. I am interested in exploring girlhood and identity formation through sexuality and race. This piece is about my journey with insecurity regarding my appearance, hinting at the power of beauty standards on teenage girls' minds.