The Hair Battle

Everyone, admit it or not, has a mitzvah, a commandment, they wrestle with. There are 613 to choose from, after all, so odds are one is bound to hit a sore spot. Some need their fists pried open to give a tenth of their paycheck to charity. Others may take a guilty pleasure in gossip. Even honoring one's parents can be challenging, especially if they're the type to drop not-so-subtle hints about an overdue grandchild.

My wrestling partner is the mitzvah of covering my hair.

My hair makes me feel beautiful, spunky and adventurous. It's as much a part of who I am as my nameJewish tradition holds that a woman's hair has sensual power, so a married woman's tresses are meant for her husband's eyes only. Don't get me wrong. I love the idea of having something to share exclusively with my husband. It makes me feel like we have a bond the rest of the world can't touch. I also like playing with funky hats and brightly colored scarves—tied just so, my husband says I look like a queen—and I even have a sheitel, a wig, as chic as any 'do you'd find on the streets of Paris.

The problem is, I love my hair. It's thick and dark black, with a natural wave. After years of trying different styles and experimenting with color—I could put a Crayola box to shame—I've finally found the perfect cut: a cropped, sassy pixie. My hair makes me feel beautiful, spunky and adventurous. It's as much a part of who I am as my name. So you can understand why I'm not so quick to cover it up.

If I wanted, I could do all kinds of mental acrobatics to justify avoiding this mitzvah. I grew up in the secular world, where suggestive images are on display almost everywhere; is my dark mop really such a big deal?

But I know the bottom line. The truth is, I love being a Jewish woman and I want to live by the laws of the Torah. But, I am also just a woman, vain as any other.

This seems simplistic, I know. G-d created my hair, along with everything else in existence. Surely my precious ego should take a backseat to that. Why should vanity stand in the way of doing G-d's will? Should I not keep the Sabbath because there's a sale at Bloomingdale's? Should I not keep kosher because a Big Mac tastes really good? Shouldn't I just accept that G-d knows best, suck it up and tie on a tichel (scarf)?

The simple answer is—yes, I should. But these things are never simple.

Part of a mitzvah's design is that it deepens the relationship we have with our Creator. But, like all relationships, there can sometimes be disagreements.

Rebellion is part and parcel of our nation's history. From as early as Adam's little snack in the Garden of Eden to Israel's Golden Calf party, we as a people have not been what you would call "obedient." But these are the same people, the only people, who accepted G-d's Torah without reservation, saying "Naaseh v'nishma"("We will do and we will hear") at the foot of Mt. Sinai. They took the brave step of committing to a long list of commandments they didn't always understand, but they drew assurance from their deep trust in G-d. So I don't believe that my resistance to covering my hair suggests a lack of faith or moral muscle; it simply makes me human.

I don't believe that my resistance to covering my hair suggests a lack of faith or moral muscle; it simply makes me humanLike Jacob with the angel, it is in our nature to wrestle. In essence, this may not be such a terrible thing, because it means that we are in active engagement with G-d. Much worse would be complete detachment, not only by ignoring the commandments, but also in doing them by rote. G-d wants us to use the commandments to draw close to Him—by doing them, and in the struggle to do them. If I lack the willingness to do what G-d wants of me, perhaps it is G-d's way of inciting me to ask Him for help.

Completing a task that requires hard work is usually much more satisfying than something done with ease. How much deeper could my spiritual connection be, then, if I work with G-d to grow in the areas where I need help, instead of coasting on easy commandments without breaking a sweat?

When I face the mirror each day and decide what to put on my head—or not—I'm not in it alone. G-d's right there with me. I don't need to tiptoe around the letter of the law. I can go straight to the Source and tell Him how tough it is sometimes to do what He wants.

"But with Your help," I tell Him, "I'll be willing." Then I know I'm covered, no matter what I've got on my head.