My hair and I have always had to struggle to get along. I am inclined to like it, I want to love the way it curls or the way it falls around my shoulders and the way it emphasizes my face, but it doesn't actually do any of those things, and it is ever so rebellious.
Exhibit A (I am the one in the front):
When I was little my mother would always talk about how it was a rat's nest, but much to my dismay, there never were any animals who came to make it their home (except lice every few years from school). She tried many tactics to get me to brush my nest, but my favorite was once when she bought me my very own brush and said that I could keep it if I would brush my hair until it was "as soft as a bunny".
I struggled with it in Middle School and often we became friends, but only because neither of us had anyone else. It would help me hide myself and I would retreat behind its stringy blonde locks. Like myself, I couldn't look at it too long before I felt ashamed. But it was just part of who I was.
Exhibit B:
In High School I said good bye to its length. Things look different when your eyes aren't blocked by hair. Your face has to make a name for itself and you are suddenly seen. It was a reverse Samson effect and I suddenly felt power, strength, and flirtatiousness flowing through me. And let me tell you, I was hot to trot. I wore cat ears, clothing purchased from D.I., scarves in the summer, ties, rain boots, and anything else that you can imagine. I was proud and my hair and I finally began to become friends.
It still has its rebellious days when it tries to tell me that it wants attention, maybe a hair cut, some product, or something else to keep it happy. But overall, I have learned to really enjoy my hair and what it can do for my face. Recently my favorite thing has been pig tails. It always reminds me of Penny from the Rescuers, which was one of my favorite childhood movies.
It made me want gingersnaps (which I had never had before) and it fed my desire for small creatures to live in my hair. So now every time I pull my hair back it is not just to get it out of my face, it is not just a hair-do, it is a memory. It is a return to childhood and a desire to be young again, but this time to do it right.
Exhibit A (I am the one in the front):
When I was little my mother would always talk about how it was a rat's nest, but much to my dismay, there never were any animals who came to make it their home (except lice every few years from school). She tried many tactics to get me to brush my nest, but my favorite was once when she bought me my very own brush and said that I could keep it if I would brush my hair until it was "as soft as a bunny".
I struggled with it in Middle School and often we became friends, but only because neither of us had anyone else. It would help me hide myself and I would retreat behind its stringy blonde locks. Like myself, I couldn't look at it too long before I felt ashamed. But it was just part of who I was.
Exhibit B:
In High School I said good bye to its length. Things look different when your eyes aren't blocked by hair. Your face has to make a name for itself and you are suddenly seen. It was a reverse Samson effect and I suddenly felt power, strength, and flirtatiousness flowing through me. And let me tell you, I was hot to trot. I wore cat ears, clothing purchased from D.I., scarves in the summer, ties, rain boots, and anything else that you can imagine. I was proud and my hair and I finally began to become friends.
It still has its rebellious days when it tries to tell me that it wants attention, maybe a hair cut, some product, or something else to keep it happy. But overall, I have learned to really enjoy my hair and what it can do for my face. Recently my favorite thing has been pig tails. It always reminds me of Penny from the Rescuers, which was one of my favorite childhood movies.
It made me want gingersnaps (which I had never had before) and it fed my desire for small creatures to live in my hair. So now every time I pull my hair back it is not just to get it out of my face, it is not just a hair-do, it is a memory. It is a return to childhood and a desire to be young again, but this time to do it right.
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