I just posted to this blog all about my hair. It’s something I’m pretty passionate about. Ms. Hellish Behavior had my exact opposite childhood hair experiences. Please understand it was my mother’s best intentions to control my hair which had a life of its own (still does). That was back when the best hair products included Dippity-Do and Brill Creme. I vaguely remember something other great goo in a gold-colored tube. The blogger’s father wanted her to keep her beautiful, thick, black hair long and uncut. My mother wanted mine hacked off. It kind of goes along with my insane boot fetish! Mothers, be careful what you do to your children!
I have noticed that within many families, long hair on the girls is a given. It’s a source of pride and a sign of beauty. There are pictures of me, a young girl with a heavy dark hair hanging down her back, miserable with the weight of it. I remember having to adjust how I sat down in school, so as to not sit on my own hair and give myself whiplash, a suffering which happened frequently.
When I was in the sixth grade, we were struggling financially, my father was away for work and my mother said that I could choose one big but inexpensive gift for my birthday. I told her that I wanted my hair cut. She panicked, this would not go over well with my father when he returned home, but she agreed, cutting inch after inch off of my hip length mane, until I was…
View original post 577 more words