The long and short of it!

For anyone who follows my blog, you know that I am forever in hair hell!  Just a recap if you're new to this ever-plaguing subject . . . I have really healthy hair.  Too healthy.  And it's incredibly straight and thick.  What's the problem you say?  Well, it doesn't do much of anything quite frankly but just hang there.

So along with my other hair dilemmas, now comes the always stressful subject of "to cut" or "not to cut."  Let me start by going back to my mother (who always seems to have an influence on my hair).  When I was growing up, I was not allowed to cut my hair short.  There were no dramatic changes allowed, and definitely no risky moves to be made with the scissors.  It was long, straight, and destined to be this away as long as she could force me to keep it so.

So next up is my 20's.  Even after I was "old enough" to make my own hair decisions, it took me years and years to build up the guts to cut it off.  I somehow secretly felt like maybe she was right and I would regret it with every inch of my being.  So there I was, sitting in the driver's seat (for lack of a better phrase) and made the final decision to chop it off.  With my whole childhood gathered together in one skinny black rubberband, I heard the snipping of the scissors and watched many years of hard work fall to the floor.  For those of you who know me well, you will not be surprised by how this event unfolded. Here, slowly and surely came the water works.  This isn't far from my usual reaction to anything.  If i'm happy, I cry.  If i'm stressed, I cry.  And if i'm sad, well, I cry.

Although I tried to remember that the almost 12 inches cut off would now belong to someone who is in more need of it than me (Locks of Love), I couldn't help but hear my mother's voice saying "I told you you would regret."

While she never said anything of the sort, she knew that I regretted it with every inch of my being.  It was the first of only two times in my life that I would have "short" hair.

The second came after almost 10 years of "letting it grow" and as part of a mid-20's/early 30's nervous breakdown.  It was a way of controlling something when so many other things were out of control.  Why did I cut it, because I could, that's why.

So now, with "medium" length hair, and the temptation to keep it short in the 100-degree humid weather of New Orleans, I am plagued by my desire to have my long hair back.  Along with my trials and tribulations (and yes, disasters) of coloring it this year, I have now decided to let it grow long again.  It will take years, but it will be long because that's what I want and not because I was forced to keep it that way.

And yes, while she would never say it to my face (and I would never admit it to her),  maybe my mother actually does know what she's talking about :)


So, here for your viewing pleasure are my hair "inspiration" photos!  I'm almost sure that by the time it gets this long again, i'll be weighing the decision of whether or not to chop it off!