I Finally Love My Hair

I love my hair. Love it. Love it. This is a monumental occasion for me because I never love my hair. Even when there is weave in it, I still never love my hair.

If you have read prior posts of mine, my hair has been an uphill battle. My natrual hair is thin, I'm taking some of the blame of this because of my neverending obsession of it growing long. My attitude usually is, it won't do anything because its not long enough yet, and I treat it accordingly.

Here's a brief chrononlogy:
In college, I was so desperate to be different. There were so many girls and I had to stick out. I had streaks, but I was bold one night and bought some dark and lovely honey blond hair color from the campus bookstore. Needless to say, I didn't know what I was doing, I left it in way too long, and I dyed my roots instead of my actual hair, and no I didn't get it fixed. I was too broke.

That same year, I got some braids. I left them in for a month before it was time to go home for spring break. When time came to take them out, I was so hell bent on cutting them out it didnt occur to me that I needed to cut the braid at the end because my hair grew and I might cut my own actual hair. Needless to say, I didn't relay to my friend this information who was helping me cut them out. She was white, she didn't know. No, I didn't get it fixed. I was too broke.

When I did arrive at a beauty shop about 2 months later, the beautician proceeded to inform me that I looked like shit. So much that two beauticians had to cut my hair to fix the damage. I believe the quote was, "You look like a lawnmower ran through your head."
I had a picture of Salt from Salt N' Pepa from the very necessary album when she was super duper short, and I told her I wanted it cut like hers. I thought that it was a drastic change. She took the picture from my hand, took one look at it, looked at me and said, "Sweetie, you're hair isn't even this long now." I came out with my hair about one step above being shaved.

There was hair strike of 2001. I had the shittiest job known to man as an assistant manager in the mall where I had to where hats every day under hot lights. I hated that job, my boyfriend at the time, and life itself so much that I literally stopped combing my hair. I would throw some bobby pins in it and go to work and put a hat on. I believe it lasted about 2 months.

Skipping past the horrible haircut given to me about my aunt that I spoke of in an earlier post, after it grew back somewhat I got braids. The braids trend is repeat about every summer about the time that my hair becomes fried and overprocessed.

Now, we have a sewn in weave. Its great. Its easy, its not hot, you can actually take care of your own hair while wearing it, and most importantly it looks really natrual. Not one person, at least not yet anyway, who has complimented me on my hair has followed it by, "is it yours?". To which if it did I would happily respond, "Why, yes, as a matter of fact it is."