So basically I wanted to balance out yesterdays schmaltzy, all-over-the-place, too long; didn’t read, you-need-an-editor post with something a little more thought out and ‘light-hearted’.
And here is what I have come up with.
I love my hair.
It’s been a journey, my hair and I. A long, thick, and luxurious journey. I wish I had photos of all the stupid shit I’ve done to my hair. Where do I even begin? I’ll start about halfway through the ninth grade. A good friend of mine had discovered the secret to dying your hair with kool-aid. At the time it seemed like a huge feat, okay? Whatever. You boil some water, add the powder, and submerge your hair for 5-10 minutes. It was going to be super awesome. I went with cherry red, she went with purple. Purple didn’t work. Cherry red worked well. Too well. It looked pretty badass for about a week. I only dyed the bottom half of my hair so it kind of looked like my hair was on fire. Little did I know I may as well have set my hair on fire for all the damage I caused. After the first week, the color faded to a sickly orange shade. I bought a box of dark hair dye to re-color my whole head. It didn’t work.
I take that back. It worked on my natural hair color, but the sickly orange shade still shone right on through.
So I tried lemon juice.
That made it worse. I can’t even describe to you.
Finally I was left with no alternative but to cut all that stupid shit off. Problem was, I knew cutting all my hair off would not suit me at all. I ended up being left with some orange in my hair. Not as much, mind you, but in the months that followed, that 1.5 inches of orange hair served as a cautionary tale to all who may have thought coloring your hair with kool-aid was a good idea.
Eventually I got rid of the rest of that orange hair and I continued to dye my hair all throughout high school. Sometimes I had help, sometimes I didn’t. The time I wanted to go blonde was a good example of a time I should have asked for help. No, I wasn’t left with orange hair again, but the crown of my head was much lighter than the rest of my hair, and thus I was a walking brassy angel.
At some point I decided I wanted long hair for graduation. So I grew it out. And out. and out. By graduation, my hair was nearly to my big fat behind. As seen here.
I felt really pretty that day. I’m just sayin.
The day after graduation, I went and got my hair cut just a little past my shoulders. I kinda cried. A lot.
Soon after my 20th birthday, My hair was still about the same length but I wanted to do something different. A friend of mine was going through beauty college and I decided to get her to put some blond highlights in my hair. I guess she hadn’t realized just how thick my hair was because as soon as she put her hands through it, she looked worried. And rightfully so. She ended up needing two people to help her because my hair was bleaching faster than she could keep up with. So my hair started looking less highlighted and more…well. Blonde.
there were sections of my hair that were near white from the bleach. Destroyed my hair yet again.
Over time the color faded, but one day I went to get my hair cut (months later) and I decided to just completely recolor it. The stylist only colored the blond sections of my hair but she matched my natural color perfectly. Absolutely perfect. And since then? I have not messed with my hair color.
When I started losing weight two years ago, My hair was growing longer and the smaller I got, the more awesome my hair looked. I lovingly referred to it as my “mermaid” hair. It was my pride and joy. Except I also had an infant son. Who liked to pull on my hair. Which meant my hair was usually tied back. But when I got to wear it down, I think I would strut instead of walk.
A few months later, I did the unthinkable.
I cut it all off.
I *still* regret doing that. I had no earthly idea what to do with hair that short so I ended up looking like Carol Brady most of the time. Robert will defend my short hair to the death, stating it was my fault for not taking the time to learn how to style it, and maybe that’s true. But my hair is now once again down past my shoulders and I like it that way. I love it that way.
Me and my hair. It’s been a journey. A sometimes short but mostly long journey.
On that note, I need a salon day. Who’s buyin?