I have very dark, very full, very coarse hair. Back in the day I got to be Scary Spice in our reenactments because my hair most fit the requirement. When I was a kid brushing my damn hair was too much of a burden to be bothered with. First of all there’s just too much of it, and all of it is always curling into knots. Every time I brush it or wash it I lose about a handful. Eric is always after me that I leave a trail of hair everywhere I go, and in all fairness between me and the dogs sometimes our floor gets looking like the floor of a hair salon. I love my hair though, wouldn’t trade it for any of the thin, straight and blonde hair in the world. Believe me that is really saying something too because when I got into that angsty tweener middle school age that is all I ever wanted. Just like everyone else I wanted what I didn’t have, and I wanted to look like a beach babe. I grew into my hair though and now I wouldn’t feel right without it. I’m more like my childhood self I suppose. Every now and then I straighten it out for a change, a process that takes hours of chemicals and flat irons, and it is fun but I’m always glad to wash it and have it curl up again.
Looking back at it my freshman year of high school was probably when it happened. I was in a wheel chair then anyway so it wasn’t like straightening my hair would make me fit in. If anything, straightening my hair would make those who I had known previously feel the need to make small talk. I hate small talk. I never have anything to add other than a witty one liner every once in a while, but those don’t always work out.
So I stopped. I stopped “fixing” my hair. I would tie it back every so often but I didn’t care about bumps anymore. Back in middle school I would wake up two to three hours early every day to make my hair presentable but once I saw the affects of the extra sleep I could get I never looked back. Let me tell you too, I grew up in a beach city which means that I rarely ever had a good hair day but I started to see that differently too. Something happened once I started to see myself as a curly haired person, I started to like it. Letting my hair down began to symbolize freedom. It probably led to my aversion for makeup too. If I may say so, wearing down ones curls is the perfect way to let the world know that you are not too worried about it before you even open your mouth. Not in a careless sort of way though. In a way that isn’t fake, when my hair is down I don’t stress it. Being around others who have their hair down is refreshing because they feel approachable.
Saying all this, there is both a time and a place when you should wear your hair down and when you should wear your hair up. I realize that. It can be a lot of fun with pins and ties and hair-spray and rollers to manipulate your hair to do exactly what you want. It often even comes as a challenge that can be time consuming and yet rewarding to take on. When you get your hair to look just like a doll and it even leaves that brilliant silhouette as a shadow. An up-do can be elegant and respectable, I’m thinking very much about having some big, curl dropping up-do for my wedding. Even when wearing your hair back is just what you need never let yourself forget who you are when you let your hair down.