Squashed by the Stashe: How I Learned to Love My Beard

I stared at the bathroom mirror, horrified. It was like a caterpillar had grown on my face. Black, patchy, ugly. As a middle schooler, this was obviously the end of my life.

I attempted to communicate the need to eradicate this mustache to my parents, but they just did not understand. Cue Parents Just Don’t Understand by the Fresh Prince.

I grew up in middle America where young boys did not look like me. To grow facial hair in middle school was an anomaly, and definitely not considered cool. Kids would ask me if I was older, share that I resembled their fathers, or worse.

The day I was allowed to shave the stache was the day a new man was born. Ironically, I had learned that American society flipped its  opinion on facial hair once we got older.

The last year of college, I decided to grow out my facial hair. An intentional decision after a decade of sporting the clean-shaven look. The number of compliments I received was baffling. My childhood taught me that facial hair is strange. Apparently, that was not the case anymore. It was only strange because others around me couldn’t grow facial hair yet. Now that they can, it’s considered manly.

What is considered acceptable or “normal” originates from the society and culture around us. At some point in the aging process, having facial hair – particularly a beard – became a symbol of wisdom. It was something aspirational.

In my process of determining whether I should maintain a beard or not, I learned that trends around what makes one look masculine change regularly. One day, the beard is the way to go. Another day, everybody is mimicking the clean-shaven look from male Korean celebrities.

For some people though, beards serve as an integral part of their religious practice. For instance, in Sikhism, hair is considered a sacred gift from God and is referred to as “Kesh.” To maintain one’s beard is a broader commitment to spiritual and moral discipline. It is also a reminder to live in harmony with the natural order.

It is beautiful that members of the Sikh faith use their beard and facial hair as a way to maintain a connection with their rich historical and cultural heritage. While I don’t identify as Sikh, this perspective gave me a new lens to appreciate my facial hair more. I may not always keep my beard, but now, I at least don’t consider it as a barrier to who I think I am “supposed to” be. Instead, when facial hair grows on my face, I recognize it as a celebration of my cultural identity.

If I could step into that bathroom with my middle school self, I would reassure him that growing a mustache early is not the end of the world. It’s only the beginning of a lifetime of learning to appreciate who you are and the sooner you learn to do so, the better life becomes.