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(I originally posted this on my personal website, with a photo of my old hair from three years ago. You can check it out at http://web.me.com/dirtygirl6/BRG/Blogilish/Blogilish.html)
My hair has failed me. It is a traitor, leaving me over and over again. I am reminded of it’s offense many times a day, as I clean it from every surface I come into contact with. I have lost my patience for it’s inability to commit. Either grow in or fall out! My hair has become a metaphor for past failed relationships. It has left my bitter and picking apart every moment to see what I did this time to cause it to leave.
I have found myself full of such frustration that it now vents from me in bursts of anger. I wish I could control it, but much like my hair, I have lost control of it. I cannot reach out for help from those around me, because they don’t understand. My husband tries to help, but he can’t. And all I do is lash out at him, because the anger inside is growing. He has said more times then I can remember that he loves me, hair or not. It should make me feel better, but it doesn’t. Not one little bit, and no of it has to do with him. It is all me.
I was doing so good, my hair was thickening up, or at least it felt like it was. I was feeling better about myself, or at least I thought I did. It has now left me wondering what else I was wrong about. I went back and looked through photos I have of myself and the question on the tip of my tongue, unspoken, is was my old hair as great as I thought it was? It was definitely a lot thicker when I was younger, up until I cut my hair off at age 16, I had great hair. Then it slowly got shorter. I always assumed it would just grow back. It was a healthy plant, constantly growing in to the point that I had to get a cut every 4 weeks when it was pixie short, or it would get unruly. But now I wonder, was it even starting to thin out then. I had short hair (above my chin) on and off until I was about 27 and started to grow it in. I got it as long as my mid back and all hell broke loose. It was general shedding at first, and I thought it was like every other time it has shedded in the past. But then it got worse - handful upon handful of my beautiful hair in the drain. It left me unnerved and frustrated, and though I hated to admit it, scared.
Then doctors appointments started, and the tests, and in the end - no clear answer. The frustration has been growing in the pit of my stomach for years now. Sometimes I suppress it, try to be zen about everything and roll with the punches. Those days are becoming harder to come by. I am a fighter and feel that if I roll over and just accept it, that I am just some giant pussy. I have fought for and about lots of other things, so why is this one so hard? And then there is this growing rage. The anger is rooting itself and pushing upward. It has changed how I operate. Now I analyze everyone’s hair, where before I wouldn’t have noticed. I have been obsessed with checking my scalp for new thin spots and have spent more money on hair care products and treatments then on anything else this year. I mean anything!
Where do I go from here? I can’t let it go and I can’t come to any good terms with it. I know they day will come soon and I will snap and cut it all off. Not shave it, but go back to a short pixie cut. I mourn the loss of the long hair I miss everyday. It made my feel like a woman, it allowed me to go from tomboy to woman with such ease. Growing it out made others see me the way I wanted to be seen. I am vain and much like Sampson, it was the source of much of the power then fuels me. I hate myself for taking it for such granted and assuming the hair that so many others told me they envied would be around forever. How will I ever come to terms with the loss if it is indeed permanent? No answers to be had tonight, but I needed to get this out there, if just for me.
Later Luvvies,
SG
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