When I was a kid I received a lot of complements from adults about my thick curly hair. I definitely thought there was something special about my hair - something unique. But then I grew self-conscious, noticing that all the other girls at my elementary school seemed to have straight thinner hair and I wasn't interested in standing out. I took scissors and locked myself in the bathroom one night and chopped off my hair. Total mess.
As hair does, it grew back. Then in junior high, when I was 13, I shaved the sides of my hair so it wouldn't be as thick. I straightened it every night before bed and slept on it so it would remain flat. It was terrible. I started dying it, coloring it with markers, doing crazy things with my hair. I figured that if I couldn't have hair like the other girls I may as well make it totally stand out. My crazy shaved rainbow hair sorta took over me - shaped my personality a bit. I wasn't a punk rocker by soul, but definitely by vision, so that's who I sorta became, a punk, a smoker, a troublemaker. I hated junior high.
My shaved hair grew back, I remained a pain in the ass kid, but I was growing up a bit, ready to pull myself together and ready for a more conventional hairstyle, a bob. I found a photo in a magazine of a model that had just the hair I wanted. I took the photo to the hair salon and asked the woman to transform me. Yeah, well, she transformed me alright - it was terrible - she didn't mention once that my curly hair wouldn't quite style as easily (OR AT ALL) like it did for the straight haired model. I was mortified, embarrassed and didn't want to show myself until my hair grew back. I felt really ugly. I started cutting school on a regular basis. I didn't want to be around other kids. It started looking like I might not graduate. I had a really difficult time.
My hair slowly grew back, looked cute even, and I graduated. In my 20's I really embraced my curls. I had boyfriends and I felt cute probably for the first time in my life. And I enjoyed having a special feature that not many others seemed to have. I grew my hair long, really long and then I really started to fill my artistic soul. I painted. I had a muralist boyfriend. I went to galleries. I worked at an art store. I realized at that point in my life that I never wanted to have a corporate job, and that quite frankly a corporate job would never want me. When I think of big companies and imagine the men and woman behind the desks, I never imagine them having curls - they have straight hair. With my curls I was destined to be an artist.
And here I am - in my mid-30's. I've recently cut my hair again, but I don't care this time. I have my own business now, I have a loving relationship, I live in a great community, and I feel inner peace. I no longer define myself by the state of my hair. It may have taken me 35 years to come to this conclusion, but come to it I have.
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