When I was little, I wore my brown hair in a cute pixie. Next, I sported a mussy shag that I adored at age ten. My chubby cheeks were in full view. As I grew into my insecure teens so grew my hair. I realized if it grew it long enough, I could hide behind it. My face would be concealed, as would my thoughts. When I found my roaring twenties, so roared my hair. If I wore it big and crazy enough, people would run. In my thirties, I grew tired of hiding, I secured my hair in a heavy ponytail – like a sword.
Heavy as my hair got, it made my heart feel lighter.
One bright day I realized, hey, this freakin’ hair is really heavy and it hurts my head. I was ready to lighten the load. What made it much easier was knowing my ‘Linus Blanket,’ went to help make others secure. It has been donated a few times, the last being October 2013.
I don’t hide anymore. I can’t. My kids make it quite impossible, as does the giant husband. They always seem to find me. I miss my old friend. So back it grows, but this time for the right reasons.
Thank you. May you all be happy in your skin, and if your skin has hair, may it be as long as you like. Dream well…
Here’s to Daphne, a dear friend taken by cancer, a long time ago. Daphne and I used to peruse wig catalogues when she was up to feeling pretty. And to my valiant Aunt Lenore, also claimed, but was ever-valiant for many years…
Little Miss Long Hair created with Prisma pencil August 21, 2014 with my hair tied back. Photo is of me and my beautiful, younger sister Dolores in 1980. Sorry if I grossed anyone out with the shot of, My Hair in a Bag, 2013