But, my secret is shared by most women.
I have allowed myself to be defined by my hair.
My mother laughing tells how she scotch taped pink bows to my bald head as I wince at the memory of the home perms she gave me that made me look like little orphan Annie.
Eventually, I let my hair grow out, mostly because it is easier to throw up and out of the way then to style it. I dyed it so often that I had forgotten what my real hair color was. I was still not comfortable but that did not mean I did not love my hair. Then I went through a bad break up and cut it off. It was not what you would call the most flattering look for me but it was not horrendous either, it grew back.
I twist it around my finger when nervous or bored, flip it when I flirt and I won't lie, I like it pulled and not just through a brush (but I love having it brushed, too). It is amazing how hair can have its own personality and reflect perfectly how I feel at times and other times have just been epic failures.
This week we asked you to write about hair. So many of us have a love-hate relationship with it. For some of us, it’s our defining feature. Whatever it means to you – or to your characters – we want to know about it.
But we don’t want you to simply describe it. We want you to use it as a vehicle to tell us something about your character, a situation, you or your life. And you needed to keep it to 300 words.