Saturday, September 4, 2010
I have been pondering my hair lately. Not in a narcissistic "nothings more beautiful than naturally curly hair" sense, more in a what does my hairs means to me? Being a curly girl to a straight-hair mother, my early dealings with hair included being secured by my mothers legs so she could hold me still enough to tackle the mass of knotty curls. Pig tails and braids were (and to some extent still are) a long haired curly girls salvation. No More Tangles was a god-send. I adored my braids with the red yarn bows tied at the bottom.
Adolescence, a difficult and awkward stage in many a child's life, was even more difficult because I did not have the hair I wanted. Hello 80s, I want feathered tresses! Alas, that is not what my hair wanted to do.
High school was when I started using my hair as a tool. Right eye? I had one but it was hidden under my "freak punk chick" hair. And I grew it long. Really long. Of course, when the curls sproing up, the length could not be appreciated, but I knew it was down to my backside. My hair became entertainment for my best friend in our tediously dry English class. (How many times can I get the chills from Bernadette stretching and boinging my curls?)
College (the first time around) was when I truly began to appreciate and learn to work with my curls, and I grew to love them. I started attracting much positivity for the amount of tresses that cascaded down my back. Friends protested every time I stated I was thinking of cutting it.
Suddenly, there came a time that I realized I was being identified too much by, and hiding behind, my hair. It was time for it to go. Finally, I went from that super-long to shoulder length. A weight was lifted, figuratively and literally, from my shoulders. The hair that was cumbersome and often out of control, was now quicker to wash and simpler to brush. I felt free.
As the years have passed, my hair has taken on many variations. I symbolically cut it a few years back to let go of the past and once again feel free. Now, I am symbolically growing it again. With good nutrition and lots of care, my hair has grown considerably.
What does it means to me today? It means I am embracing all that is me. I have reconnected with my true self in so many ways and the long curly locks represent this process.
(I have no recent photos but it is time to take out the camera again. Perhaps a new, long haired pic will follow shortly.)