As any of you who read my blog already know – I am obsessed with my body. How bad it is. How flabby. How wrinkled and aging. Lest you think that makes me one-dimensional, shallow, know that what I haven’t written about so much is my nearly equal obsession with my hair.
When I was young(er), I hated my curls, I wanted them GONE. I used an actual iron in the the basement of my childhood home to damage straighten them out.
By college, I had learned to embrace the curl. Besides, it was the 80’s and big hair was in. Mine was big.
I stayed curly for a while. It’s interesting about curly hair, women (all of whom have perfectly straight, silky, shiny hair) will tell you how great your hair is. Men. Not so much. Still, I grew to accept and even like my curly do. Just in time for it to go away.
When I was pregnant with my twins, my hair straightened out. But did it become straight? No! of course not. It just got wavy/frizzy. The kind of hair that, if you have a stylist following you around all day could look wild and tousled and sexy, but if you don’t — if you’re me that is, you just look like you’ve been mildly electrocuted.
I fought it again. Not straight. Not wavy. Big bummer.
Then I discovered Deva Salon and products. Back to embracing the curl. I liked my Sarah Jessica locks. It was working for me.
That’s why, last week, I decided to cut it all off.
I don’t know what I was thinking. It’s gone baby gone. Mid-neck length. I don’t dislike it. It’s just weird. Thank goodness it’s hair, and it will grow back. Then I can start the struggle all over again!