The cut eyebrow
Tags: Eyebrows, Lies, Memories, Storytelling, Childhood

The cut eyebrow

A story of how I cut my eyebrows when I was 12 and lied about it for 6 months Sarah Dec 22, 2020·5 min read

So, I’ve always been quite a good liar. It’s not something to be proud of I know, but I do find it slightly satisfying when I’m able to get away with something using a lie.

Growing up as one of 2 Asians in my year level in primary didn’t really bother me that much but it definitely did come with some difficulties. I was fortunate enough to never be bullied or teased for my cultural differences and was lucky enough to have many caring friends.

But something that I was always aware of was how different I looked compared to everyone else. I often compared my features to the other girls and wished that I looked like them. I was only 12 so I didn’t really know any better. I definitely don’t do this as often anymore because my high school is incredibly multi-cultural which is something i’m very proud of :)

Anyways, one day I was looking around and I noticed that all the other girls had thin eyebrows whereas I had thicker ones. I don’t exactly remember the thought process between me noticing the other girls’ eyebrows and putting a razor to mine, but I remember wanting to look the same.

I went home, took a razor and attempted to cut some of my eyebrow. As you could imagine it went pretty horribly, not noticeably bad but not great either. After cutting my eyebrows to what 12 year old me thought looked good, I was satisfied.

A few weeks later when I was about to get into the car with my dad, my dad noticed my eyebrows and asked me if I had cut them. He was speaking pretty loudly, probably because he was so shocked to noticed that some of my eyebrows had been cut. What’s crazy to me is that someone as observant as my dad didn’t notice straight away.

At first I said that I didn’t cut it. He kept pressuring me to tell me what happened but I insisted that I didn't do anything. Until this story just starting pouring out of my mouth.

“This other girls cut it.” I said.

“WHAT?” My dad yelled. I quickly changed my story to ease his reaction.

“She did it accidentally.” Like this, I continued to mold my story around his reactions to create something that would be viable.

Eventually he believed that a girl sitting next to me in my art class had scissors in her hand and accidentally cut my eyebrows as she was raising her arm. I know, it sounds ridiculous I honestly don’t know how he didn’t call my bluff. But I presume that he was distressed and willing to believe anything that didn’t include his 12 year old daughter voluntarily cutting her own eyebrows. You may think, why does it matter if he found out that I cut it myself? My dad raised my sister and I to care very little about our appearance. He didn't want us to value our own appearance more than other qualities. So instead of giving us compliments about our appearance he would focus more on our talent, gifts and personality. Which is why 12 year old me feared telling him about why I cut my eyebrows. This sounds really trivial I know, but I remember feeling quite panicked in the moment.

I knew my dad had bought it when he started sympathising and comforting me. I always cry when people give me sympathy, I don’t know why or how to stop it but it still happens to this day. The best thing to do when i’m hurt or upset, weirdly enough, is to completely ignore me. Sympathising with me is like adding oxygen to fire. Anyways the day ended with me crying over something that didn't even happen and my dad comforting me. My dad also offered to call the principle or the girl’s parents, but I quickly said no, and claimed that it wasn’t necessary since it was an accident.

Weeks past and this story was never brought up again, my parents and sister had probably forgot about it too, but I couldn't forget. I was raised as an atheist so I didn’t believe in god, so as kid I would often “talk” to Santa. I know this sounds ridiculous and it kind of is, but I would ask Santa for forgiveness. I remember after doing something “naughty” I would apologise to Santa and tell him that I would be better. So after I lied to my parents about the whole eyebrow thing, I apoligised to Santa every single day. That’s how guilty I felt over such a trivial thing. Though, I guess lying to your parents and cooking up a whole story around is isn’t exactly trivial.

Eventually the guilt was too suffocating for me so I caved at the start of year 7. I remember my dad just not talking to me and only saying “i’m very disappointed.” Which is way way worse than yelling at me. The silent treatment drove me crazy until he made me tell my mum aswel. My mum had a slightly different reaction, she was just confused as to why I lied to begin with. The only thing I had to say to this was “I don’t know.”

What I told them was that “the girls told me to do it, so I did.” Now I realise that this isn’t entirely true either, and till this day I have no idea why I said that. Because no one actually told me to, I had just convinced myself that I needed to do it to avoid being told to do it, or being teased about it. I think maybe I didn’t want to admit to my parents that I did in fact care about my appearance because all those years they had taught me not to. I think that when I hopefully have a family of my own, I will teach my own children to accept and love their appearance rather than avoid the entire thing all together.

Now at 17 years old when I think back about this story, I realise how trivial the whole thing was. Kids lie, it really is inevitable. But maybe my parents saw this as an opportunity to teach me to never lie to them again. Since then, I have lied to them. Only white lies and little lies tho, (things like “how did you go on your test?” — “good” or “have you been productive?” — “yeah”) so maybe my parents’ plan to discourage me from lying to them did work. Because one thing that my dad said then, that still swims in my mind to this day is:

*once you lose someone’s trust, even if they forgive you, it can be very difficult to gain it back*