As an Indonesian, my hair has always been simple. It is straight, fine, and easy to manage. I rarely keep it very long; once it grows past a certain point, it starts falling like rain in the monsoon back home. So I had to cut it shorter. It is always like that. It is predictable. It is quiet. My daughters, Allahumma barik, are the complete opposite. Their hair is a wild, beautiful crown—curly, dry, coarse, and long. In the Arab world, this is the “ideal.” People love to see it flowing. But the reality of living with that beauty is a weight I don’t always have the energy to carry.…