Sunday, December 20, 2009


I wish I knew when my obsession with my hair began. Perhaps when I started to actually have cute hair. Like when I had the faux hawk when I lived in Brooklyn?

Yea. Let's say the obsession started there. When my self esteem was beginning to actually be positive. When positive attention regarding my looks and style began to shower me. When I, for once, knew and understand who I truely was.

Then I moved to Florida. I was the new girl in town and my hair got plenty of attention. People would come up to me asking to cut my hair for free just to say they cut my hair.

After having short hair for most of my life, I decided to try and grow it out. It got to my chin and I'd wack it off. But finally, I was given a wonderful "growing out haircut."

And that was the last time I had my haircut for about a year. I tried to have a haircut once. My hair was about to my shoulders and I told the girl to give me a bob. She refused to cut it. At the time I was so offended and pissed. But now, I look back on it and I am so thankful. My hair just grew and grew and grew. I refused to let anyone touch it. Not to cut it, not to color it. My over-protectiveness became an obsession. I survived all 9 months of beauty school without one single person touching. Except a small bang trim. I began to let my hair just hang out. I started wearing it curly but it drove me nuts. So, I just flat ironed it once a week (washed it about once a week.)

Let me just fill you in on the chaos that is my hair. It's a rats nest. It's nappy. It's course, it's dry, it's curly, it's just a mess. So during my growing out phase, I put up with A LOT! Another reason why I am so psycho over protective of it. I finally decided to let someone cut it. Told her just a trim. My hair was this before:

It was then wacked into this:

I cried for weeks. It took almost a year for it to finally grow back and for me to finally trust anyone to touch it again. It was dreadful. But it finally recovered. I am now able to wear it curly. It is almost to my butt. It is amazing. I cut it like every six months. I never wear it straight. People don't believe me when I tell them it's my real hair.

So why do i freak out whenever I get it cut? I had it cut last week and I'm freaking out. Maybe 1/4 of an inch was taken off the length but she took out a lot of weight. I'm freaking out. I'm pathetic, i know....

I guess it's a good thing I'm a hair stylist

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