The other night, while getting ready to fall asleep, I took my hair out of its typical messy bun to comb my fingers through it. It was still a bit damp from my shower earlier that evening. I took a moment to smell it, pressed it against my cheek, then laid it across my pillow and sighed a deep sigh.
What happened to my hair? I remember how important it used to be to me. I loved my hair. I still do, it’s just that now, I don’t seem to have the time, the energy, or a clue. What do I do with it?
Before, I would spend an hour a day fixing it.
I remember crying – crying! – when it wasn’t perfect and styled exactly the way I wanted it. I would even fret over the conditioner I was using (Will it make my hair greasy or limp?), the smell of the shampoo (Does this scent say ‘spring’ or ‘winter’?), and the amount of time under the hair dryer (If I get split ends, I’m going to DIE!)…
These days, the most I do to it is brush it (if I’m lucky) and pull it back into a ponytail. When I REALLY want to get fancy, I pull out the hair dryer. And when I’m meeting the Queen, I flat iron it.
Sometimes, when I have a split second to care about my appearance, I look at my hair in the mirror and cry a little inside. It’s a crazy mess.
My Hair History
Newborn: Bald – I was rocking a Kojak. My mom used to make me wear handkerchiefs on my head so people would know I was a girl
Kindergarten: I grew just enough hair on the top of my head by then to wear a barrette when it was time to take my first school picture
Grade School: A bob, a Pageboy (I was aiming for Dorothy Hamill’s haircut because I was obsessed with ice skating, but ended up looking like my brother), a ‘feathered’ Mullet (straight, long hair in the back, puffy bangs in the front and on the sides)
Junior High: I grew it all out – except for my bangs
High School and College: It was long and down to my butt, till almost my third year in college. Then I chopped it all off. It was liberating!
Days Since: I’ve experimented with different lengths, layers, bangs, no bangs, the Rachel. I’ve had it all.
Now, my melancholy mommy hair is hoping for a makeover and a comeback.
Just like MC Hammer. To quote said Hammer: I’ve gotta turn this mutha’ out!