Dear τ ,
We’ve been through thick and thin. I stuck it out through the wet scrunchies when we were in fifth grade, held on through your hair braiding pig tail addiction of ’97 -the attempt at cornrows & twisties in college. I bounced back from years 2000- 2003 when you went through 3 cans of hair spray a month because of your need to engage in activities like cheerleading and ballet. I didn’t bail when you went crazy and dyed your head hell red, and then went Sybil and tried to pull off full blonde in 2006 (like who were you kidding? not our greatest moments!) Then in 2011 the began. I was shocked and frightened at first, well mainly because you didn’t warn me and I had to say goodbye to so much so quickly. The problem is the cutting didn’t stop, it keep going shorter and shorter. In those early months it was hard but as the months passed I got used to it. Less for you to fuss with, and I felt healthier.
But today crossed the line. All those times I held on because together we were creating something beautiful, I endured the pain so that we were coifed and refined, yet full and voluptuous- and made the girls with thin frizzy hair jealous. But you don’t seem to even care anymore!
What is up with this pony tail?!– that in reality really resembles the short squiggly end of swine! And this colorless cotton cow rag dimming my luster!
You know better!
I’m glorious and shiny, I’ve fought to keep pigment alive and well, staying off the torture of gray! We can agree; I keep shit under wraps as much as possible, fight the pain of the blow dryer and iron, and coloring, and excessive shampooing.
But if you don’t get it together I’m officially going on strike.
And no show of force will get me under control!
Your luscious locks.