Losing My Hair

When I was younger, in about 2ND grade, my aunt took me to get my hair cut. Mom told her "Only the dead ends". She agreed. When I was there, I sat in the air chair. I remember telling her, "if you stop now I'll be okay!". Half of my hair was gone at that point. She told me she was going to cut it and it would look beautiful.About 8 minuets later, my hair was butchered in an old fashioned "chili bowl" style cut. It was above my ears. I was horrified. When got into the van with my cousins and I sat in the middle. I leaned down and looked at the floor. I began to cry. "Don't you like your new hair?" I just sobbed. We got home and I walked in the door. My mother asked my aunt, "What did you do to her, Kathy?!" I ran to my room. After that day, I was made fun of and repeatedly mistaken for a boy. I remember my hair finally getting to my shoulders. "Can we braid it yet momma?" I asked. "Nope honey, not yet. Just a little bit longer". My mother released my hair from where she had tried to braid it, but it was too short. After a while, my hair began to grow. And grow. And grow. Eventually, 9 years later, my hair was down to my lower back, long and wavy, brown with natural blonde highlights.

About 2 weeks back, the last day before spring break, for about the 2ND time I've had a haircut since I was butchered, my nana and mom wanted me to get my dead ends cut. We went to a womans Blueberry farm, she did haircuts from the back of her house. All week long I begged momma not to make me. She said I had to. I didn't beg hard enough. We stepped inside the house. It was small, there were annoying kids running around in what was supposed to be this "business area". It was cluttered, left over hair still on the floor from previous haircuts. My mother had to pick up magazines and move them because they had been piled up on the mismatched bench. We sat as I nervously watched the preppy cheerleaders from my school get their eyebrows waxed. They are all rednecks here, and therefore the businesses here are unsuitable. It was my turn. I sat in the ugly chair in front of a mirror, she put the tarp on me. The entire time she was on her CELL PHONE and I told her 1 and 1/2 inches ONLY. she agreed. While I was getting it cut, another annoying customer came in and said she didn't know what to do if she had such hair as mine. The hairdresser said, "yeah. This is a mane." That was the last time I'd hear that and know it was true. She made me stand up to cut it. She told me it was done. I pulled my hair to the front... it was almost to he middle of my breasts. I looked at it in horror. "Do you like it?" she asked. Just as when I was a child. I just shook my head yes. I was in shock. Thats all i could do. I walked out of the house. And I began crying. I got into the van and sobbed. Now my hair is short again... it has broken my heart. Theres nothing I can do but wait it out. From this point, I refuse to cut my hair anymore. When I'm ready, I will cut it myself. But until then, I just have to pray it grows fast and wavy. It's completely straight all over the top... I will most likely lose my waves. But the length is what matters most. It makes me unique. So heres to the wait. 

My new hair after i cut my own bangs. The ends are completely uneven and so I cut my bangs to draw attention away from it.