Childhood Trauma: The Summer Short Forced Haircut

A Girl and Her Hair The thick, black strands slipped effortlessly between Priya’s fingers as she ran a wooden comb through her long, silky hair. She sat cross-legged on the cool marble floor of her room, humming softly as she carefully braided it into two neat plaits, just as her mother had taught her. Her hair had always been a source of pride—a crown she never wanted to part with. It was thick, dark, and fell past her waist, swaying gently as she walked. But deep inside, she knew it wouldn’t last. Summer was coming. And summer always meant one thing. A haircut. The Unwanted Tradition Every year, as the hot months approached, Priya’s mother would make the same announcement: "It’s too hot, beta. Long hair is a nuisance in the summer. We’ll get it cut short." And every year, Priya would protest. "Amma, please! Just a trim! I promise I’ll tie it up!" But her pleas always went unheard. Her mother’s decision was final. "It’s not just about the heat," her mo...