I used to argue with Salome every single morning about brushing her hair. It was this daily battle—tears, tangles, and me checking the clock every thirty seconds like we were on a game show countdown. One time she missed the bus because she refused to take off her hoodie (she was hiding a matted ponytail from the day before). That was kind of our breaking point.
Then one night, completely unprompted, she came out of the bathroom with a shiny purple shower cap on her head. I thought she was being silly at first, playing spa or pretending to be fancy. But nope. She said, super serious, “I figured if I wear this, I won’t have to redo my braids in the morning.” And just like that, no more arguments.
She wears it every night now like it’s part of her uniform. It’s become such a routine that when she forgot to pack it for a sleepover at her cousin’s, she called me almost in a panic.
The thing is, I didn’t realize how much of a game changer this simple idea was until one morning, when I overheard her talking to a friend on the phone. I was in the kitchen making coffee, trying to get a jump on my day, when I caught her giggling to herself in the other room.
“I wear my shower cap to keep my hair nice for school,” she said, like it was the most casual thing in the world. “You should try it, too. It saves me so much time in the morning.”
It hit me then—she had found a solution on her own. A quirky, simple little trick that solved a problem that had been driving us both crazy for months. And she was proud of it. She was taking ownership of her routine and making things easier for herself without even realizing the bigger lesson she was teaching me.
I couldn’t help but smile to myself. It was a moment of growth for her, and honestly, for me, too. I’d spent so much time getting frustrated with her reluctance to follow the “rules”—brush your hair, take care of your things, don’t leave your homework until the last minute. I was stuck in the mindset that my way was the only way, the only way that worked. But Salome had shown me that sometimes, the best solution doesn’t come from following instructions, but from thinking outside the box.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized I could learn from her. She didn’t need to follow my “perfect” routine. She was learning to solve her own problems, even if it meant wearing a shower cap every night.
A week passed, and the routine stuck. I never saw Salome rushing through her morning routine anymore, worrying about tangles and knots. Her hair was always neat and ready, and there were no more stressful mornings spent trying to work through a tangle of frustration. She had found a solution that worked for her, one that was both practical and fun.
But then came the unexpected twist.
It happened when I got a call from Salome’s teacher one afternoon. I thought it was just going to be a simple check-in about her progress—she had been doing great in school, but I figured this was one of those routine calls that I’d get once in a while. Instead, I was greeted by a very concerned voice on the other end.
“Hi, Mrs. Caldwell, this is Miss Miller, Salome’s teacher. I wanted to discuss something important that happened today.”
My heart sank. Was Salome in trouble? What had she done?
“She came in this morning wearing a shower cap to school,” Miss Miller continued. “And when we asked her why, she told us it was to keep her braids neat. I just thought it was a bit… unusual, and I wanted to check in with you.”
For a split second, I felt a hot rush of embarrassment flood my face. Of course, it hadn’t even crossed my mind that other people might find it strange. But then, a thought crossed my mind—why was I embarrassed? Why was I so worried about what others thought about a silly shower cap?
“I’m sorry,” I said, catching my breath. “I didn’t realize it was a big deal. It’s just something that’s become part of her routine at home. It helps her save time in the mornings and keeps her hair in place.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. “I understand,” Miss Miller said, a softer tone creeping into her voice. “It’s just that the other kids started making fun of her for it. They were asking why she was wearing a shower cap, and she got a little upset.”
I felt my stomach drop. My daughter, the girl who had come up with her own clever solution to a daily problem, was now being ridiculed for it by her classmates.
“I see,” I replied, trying to hold back the frustration in my voice. “I’ll talk to her about it, and we’ll figure out a better way to approach the situation.”
I hung up the phone, my thoughts racing. How could I have missed this? I had been so focused on how proud I was of Salome for being resourceful and independent that I hadn’t thought about how others might see her. The kids at school didn’t understand why she wore a shower cap, and they found it funny. What I thought was an empowering moment for her had become a source of teasing.
I had to talk to her.
That evening, as we sat at the dinner table, I gently broached the topic. “Salome,” I started, “I had a conversation with your teacher today, and she mentioned that some of your classmates have been teasing you about your shower cap.”
Her face immediately flushed, and she shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “It’s not a big deal, Mom. It’s just… they don’t get it.”
“I know,” I said gently. “I’m proud of how you found a way to make mornings easier, but maybe we should think about a different way to keep your hair neat—something that still works for you but doesn’t make you stand out in a way that others might not understand.”
Salome bit her lip, looking down at her plate. I could tell she was processing the words, but she wasn’t ready to accept them yet.
“I like my shower cap,” she finally said, her voice quiet but firm. “It works. I don’t want to stop wearing it just because they don’t get it.”
“I understand,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “But I want you to feel good at school. And sometimes, it’s okay to adapt. We can still find a way to make mornings easier and keep your hair neat, but maybe in a way that won’t make you stand out.”
Salome looked at me for a long moment, then sighed. “Okay. But I’m not going to stop figuring out my own ways to solve problems. I like that part of me.”
“You don’t have to stop that,” I said with a smile. “I’m proud of you for that. Just… maybe we can tweak it a little.”
In the end, we found a compromise. Salome still wore her shower cap at night, but during the day, she started using a cute headband to keep her braids neat. It wasn’t as unusual, and the other kids at school didn’t tease her about it anymore. It was a small change, but one that allowed her to maintain her independence while still fitting in.
The real lesson here wasn’t just about finding the right solution to a problem, but also about learning to navigate the world around you. Salome showed me that being creative and independent is powerful, but so is knowing when to adapt. It’s about balance.
And the karmic twist? After we worked through the situation, Salome ended up becoming a quiet leader at school, helping other kids solve little problems in their own ways. Her resourcefulness wasn’t just about her shower cap—it was about her mindset, her willingness to think outside the box and help others.
So, to anyone out there who’s struggling with the pressures of fitting in, remember that your creativity and your uniqueness are your strengths. Don’t be afraid to stand out—but also remember that growth often comes when we learn to adapt and embrace new ways of doing things.
If you enjoyed this story, share it with someone who might need a reminder that finding your own way isn’t just okay, it’s powerful. And don’t forget to like and comment!
