The Wig

I don’t know what it is about this wig, but every time within the past week that I started wearing it, I’ve been getting all kinds of attention. This all happened the middle of November, by the way.

The first day I wore it was on Wednesday, but I was too ashamed to leave my hall after getting lunch because I was worried it would be too obvious and attract too many judging eyes. I retreated to my room and decided to try again on Thursday.

I carefully pulled my braided hair under a tight, black wig cap. I gazed at my reflection with thoughts of backing down again. Not today, I told myself as I took the coiled wig from a hanging post. I turned it around several times trying to relocate the part before fitting it over my head. This went on for the next few days. Looks good enough!

As I sat down for a Zoom call, I was immediately complimented on my “hair.” That was all I needed for the confidence to go out with my new style. Throughout this one day I noticed a change. Maybe it was because I was wearing a cute outfit for once and put some makeup on. Or maybe… it was the wig, my hair finally looked done and put together for once and not piled under a head wrap or half-baked.

Me on the day I finally ventured out with it.

At first, the extra head turns, lingering stares, and extended conversations amped up my anxiety and had me fearing they could tell, maybe someone would snatch it off, but that wasn’t the case.

Once I realized that, I was flying high on the new confidence and positive attention my wig was getting me. Why had I not started doing this sooner? Then, I was brought down from my high as I walked from Burger King for dinner.

These two guys approached me with compliments and told me they were making a video. For what? Thanksgiving. Sure, I agreed to it, always willing to help. They lied. Instead, it was a sexist, disgusting, attention-seeking video for, more than likely, Tik Tok.

The guy doing the “interview” told me he lied, and started off normal enough. Then, he asked me questions about how I’d rate him on a scale of 1-10, if I was a virgin, how many guys I’ve slept with, if I would sleep with him, and so on. I swear my head was on fire under that wig as I kept my hand from slapping him. I couldn’t finish their stupid video and walked away as calmly as possible, though my hands were shaking.

As I walked back, I felt slimy, exposed, objectified once again. It was like a lame online dating conversation playing out in real life, and I hated it.

Damn this wig, I thought. Damn me for dressing like this, I thought. I wanted to abandon my new “hair” for fear of more encounters like that. I wanted to stay inside for the rest of the week, just to avoid contact with anyone.

As hard as it was not to, I didn’t stay inside and hide. I won’t let one bad experience stop me from wearing wigs now and then when I just want to not feel invisible for once. I will still wear wigs.

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