Embracing My Widow’s Peak


by Tamika Burgess

Image courtesy of Tamika Burgess.

Image courtesy of Tamika Burgess.

“Mom, why does my hairline come to a point in the middle of my forehead?” I asked one day while staring at myself in my parent’s bathroom mirror. “I don’t know why, but look mine grows like that too.” My Mom answered while pointing to her almost perfect hairline.

This pesky V-shaped point has sat at the top of my forehead my entire life. But it didn’t start to annoy me until I got to middle school. I was at that age when all girls become aware of their “imperfections” and wished they could change them. My “imperfection,” my widow’s peak.

Although it was something I never got made fun of for having, at least not to my face, I hated that part of my hairline. I often thought of it as the part of my hair that didn’t want to cooperate. It was like it wanted to stand out from the rest, screaming “hey everyone, look at me.” But I didn’t want any attention drawn to it.

Fact is my widow’s peak made me very self-conscious, and I was uncomfortable and embarrassed of it. In my mind it was the first thing people saw when they looked at me.

I often felt different, like I didn’t fit in because I had one. And in the rare event when I did see a person with a widow’s peak, I always thought theirs wasn’t as bad as mine.

I would do several things to try to hide it. Things like wear headbands, cover it with straight or side bangs, or keep my hair in braids. In doing so, these hair styles became routine all the way through high school.

But as I went through my twenties, my widow’s peak became less of an issue for me. I either stopped caring about it, got use to it, or matured and grew more comfortable with myself. Looking back I would say all three happened. And as time went on, without thinking twice about it I started combing my hair back into a ponytail, and even putting it into a bun. I stopped trying to hide it. And again, people never made mention of it to me.

There was that one time when I was getting my hair done and my stylist/friend referred to it as my “Eddie Monster.” But at that point in my life I was so comfortable with myself that I was able to laugh off her comment. Plus I knew she was just being silly and meant no harm.

In that instance I noticed my thought process on the matter completely changed. When I was younger it bothered me every time I looked in the mirror. Now I didn’t even notice it.

But recently all the memories of my widow’s peak anxieties came to mind when I saw someone tweet about shaving theirs off.

When I saw that tweet I thought about how drastic their widow’s peak must be for them to want to shave it. To me, mine was drastic but never ever did the idea of shaving it come to mind. I never considered doing anything to it but covering it up. I always looked at it as something that was there to stay; which is exactly what it is.

It’s interesting to think back to how I allowed my mind to paint an extreme picture of my widow’s peak. As a teen, I focused so much on trying to be what I thought was perfect. I spent a lot of time stressing about my widow’s peak when in actuality it really wasn’t a big deal at all.

And now I’ve got to the point where I truly like my widow’s peak.  I think it adds to my individuality. And just as I felt when I was in middle school, my widow’s peak does set me a part and does make me different.

But the difference is, I now like that feeling. I like my hairline just the way it is.

Tamika Burgess is a freelance writer and a blogger. Currently living in Brooklyn, NY, Tamika was born and raised in Southern California. As a freelance writer, Tamika’s work has been featured on various sites, including The Well Versed and 212Access. Her work is also featured on her blog, The Essence of Me.