Different for Girls

~200 words :: Stargate: Atlantis :: Teyla :: 9/18/08
She remembers sitting high up on her father’s shoulders, small hands fisted in a cloud of dark curls, her own hair braided so tightly it made her scalp ache.


Teyla smoothes her hand over Torren’s head. His hair is wispy and soft, dark like his father’s. No hint of a curl yet, though she knows that may change.

But it’s different for boys, for men. She remembers sitting high up on her father’s shoulders, small hands fisted in a cloud of dark curls, her own hair braided so tightly it made her scalp ache.

She remembers the day the braids were shorn off, five minutes of freedom before her mother fitted the wig on her head. It was made from her mother’s own hair, the color too light to quite match her own. No one will notice, her mother said when she pointed it out. Too old for braids, too young to realize the pretense was all that mattered.

Her hair is darker now – dark with age, dark from never seeing the sun – but when it comes time to buy a new wig, to slip away from the others in the marketplace and find the now-familiar stall, she always chooses one that matches her mother’s hair rather than her own.

No one will see hers anyway.