I Have a Secret and its Long and Luscious

I have a secret.

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.

First of all, I do not have red hair. Secondly, I usually ended up looking like a frizz ball. Let’s not even talk about the rollers that my hair was forced to be entwined around in effort to “set” my hair in curls that never worked.

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.

I turned 37 last month and I can finally say I have a style of my own. I blow dry it, iron it and that is it, takes ten minutes. No longer dyed, it is what it is and it is all mine.  Long and luscious.










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.