its funny actually, i have a much more loving and positive relationship with my hair below my neck then i do the hair on my head. growing up a redhead and getting picked on constantly for it made me resent my hair in a big way. when i was in 9th grade i finally freaked out and dyed it jet black. i was defined in my family by my red hair. as the only redhead in a proud irish family it was a big deal. when i dyed it my mom cried, my aunt and uncle were disappointed, my dad though i looked like morticia. as i got older i missed my red hair, my only reminder of what i once had being the hair between my legs. i dont remember exactly when i decided to do it but i grew it out, sometime around my senior year i think. i was red once again and was praised by my family for becoming "pretty". ive been conditioned to be so identified by hair that it still terrifies me to change it. as much as i long to try something new or drastic, i hem and haw about anything i do to it for a long time. i had long ass length straight hair for 18 years before i hacked it all off. hell, i decided to grow out my hair for dreads months ago and im still not sure if im going to go through with it. i get bored easily too with my hair which is part of my fear of anything that would require long lasting commitment. even still, ive always felt that my hair could somehow be more than what it is. i love being a redhead but at the same time being so defined by that hair color has deeply engrained in me a fear of my hair and change. theres something about my hair that when it looks good to me, i feel positively gorgeous, and when it doesnt i feel blah for the whole rest of the day.
growing up a redhead and getting picked on constantly for it made me resent my hair in a big way. when i was in 9th grade i finally freaked out and dyed it jet black. i was defined in my family by my red hair. as the only redhead in a proud irish family it was a big deal. when i dyed it my mom cried, my aunt and uncle were disappointed, my dad though i looked like morticia. as i got older i missed my red hair, my only reminder of what i once had being the hair between my legs. i dont remember exactly when i decided to do it but i grew it out, sometime around my senior year i think. i was red once again and was praised by my family for becoming "pretty".
ive been conditioned to be so identified by hair that it still terrifies me to change it. as much as i long to try something new or drastic, i hem and haw about anything i do to it for a long time. i had long ass length straight hair for 18 years before i hacked it all off. hell, i decided to grow out my hair for dreads months ago and im still not sure if im going to go through with it. i get bored easily too with my hair which is part of my fear of anything that would require long lasting commitment. even still, ive always felt that my hair could somehow be more than what it is.
i love being a redhead but at the same time being so defined by that hair color has deeply engrained in me a fear of my hair and change. theres something about my hair that when it looks good to me, i feel positively gorgeous, and when it doesnt i feel blah for the whole rest of the day.
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