Childhood Thoughts

One would hope that I add something to the world- be it good, bad, or indifferent- Me

I am spurned to write this by Holly. Thanks for the inspiration...

The first picture I have of myself in California I have long, shoulder length pigtails. I'm in a one piece bathing suit and sitting with one leg folded up, and on my other knee. I've got the biggest grin in the world. The next picture I have of me in California is of me in the same suit, about 2 months later. This time, I swear I look like a boy... my hair had been chopped off to within an inch of my life. Thus started my obsession with my hair.

(Please note that I don't really think that I have an obsession with hair, neither my own, or yours. It's just that after having none of it, I determined that I rather perfer to have some, or a lot. My particular obsession has less to do with the actual hair, and more to do with my control over the existence of it.)

I remember the day my mother cut off my hair. No, it didn't start with a piece of bubble gum. It started with a bottle of spray in conditioner. I have extremely fine hair. My mother had been trying to rid my hair of knots for about half an hour. She had been using Johnson and Johnson No Tears spray in knot detangler. I had started crying about 15 minutes ago. 45 minutes into our hair journey, my mother ran out of the spray, and I ran away, throwing the hair brush the other direction. I believe that it was this moment that my mother decided to cut off all of my hair.

The next week, I was at the salon. I didn't really mind it, it meant I got to sleep more, my mother wasn't yelling at me, etc, etc, etc. It never occured to me how this lack of hair would drastically affect my self-esteem at school.

I was ridiculed mercilessly. It took me until 10th grade to eventually find my love of hair, and a hairbrush. I think we can all agree that it was a good decision...


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