Does my Hair Offend You
Does My Hair Offend You? The way we look tells a story about where we are in life or where we’ve been. From our head to our toes we get summed up and judged based on the way we style our hair, whether we wear make-up or jewelry, if we wear a t-shirt and jeans or a dress, and if our nails are painted or bare. Heaven forbid if we cut our hair short and happen to be a girl. Allow me to take you back two years. I was a junior in high school and my main concern in life was, purely and simply, getting through school. While other girls got up at the crack of dawn to make sure that their make-up was perfect, their outfit matched their nail polish and not a strand of hair was out of place, I was sleeping until the last possible minute. See, I had tried the five am wake-up call and I was always exhausted.
The work I had to put into my hair in the morning was damaging and overwhelming. My hair has always been my enemy. I have a curly, thick and fuzzy mess that grows out of my scalp like a weed. It didn’t matter whether it was rainy or sunny, muggy or dry, it took over. My only option, if I wanted to tame it, was to be out of bed and in the shower by five in the morning to wash and dry this mess others would have called hair. After my hair was finally dry to the bone I would then proceed to whip it into submission with a flat iron that was turned up so hot I was lucky not to melt. The whole process was killing my hair and causing me to be so tired for the rest of the day that I just couldn’t handle it any more. The solution was to put it up in a tight bun and pull the rest back with a head band. At that point my morning schedule went from 3 hours of prep to about a half hour. But this sacrifice cost me a big chunk of my self-esteem.
When I shaved my head down to very little hair it was an extremely freeing feeling. I had nothing to stress over in the morning. It always looked cute and all I had to do was push it the right direction when I woke up.
The work I had to put into my hair in the morning was damaging and overwhelming. My hair has always been my enemy. I have a curly, thick and fuzzy mess that grows out of my scalp like a weed. It didn’t matter whether it was rainy or sunny, muggy or dry, it took over. My only option, if I wanted to tame it, was to be out of bed and in the shower by five in the morning to wash and dry this mess others would have called hair. After my hair was finally dry to the bone I would then proceed to whip it into submission with a flat iron that was turned up so hot I was lucky not to melt. The whole process was killing my hair and causing me to be so tired for the rest of the day that I just couldn’t handle it any more. The solution was to put it up in a tight bun and pull the rest back with a head band. At that point my morning schedule went from 3 hours of prep to about a half hour. But this sacrifice cost me a big chunk of my self-esteem.
When I shaved my head down to very little hair it was an extremely freeing feeling. I had nothing to stress over in the morning. It always looked cute and all I had to do was push it the right direction when I woke up.