So, I have somewhat difficult hair. I envy those women with simple natural hair that grows past their shoulders and doesn't do any weird wonky stuff along the way.
Mine is super fine, and super frizzy. This means that at times it is capable of pretty waves, or even curls with a little product help. There have been a few glorious results when using a diffusor. (The rest of the times it looked god awful, and having no recourse at that point I gave up on the gamble.)
However, most of the time there are a few waves buried underneath, a few stick straight areas, and lots of damage. So the ends are all different lengths. Its also blonde by the way. Its naturally fairly blonde, but looks way better at that super blonde level. Unfortunately, when I get my hair done at salon it mostly ends up being, a. not that blonde, and b. totally fried. Sucks double.
So, my irrational deal is that I always, always want long blonde hair. I don't understand why this should not be possible. I just cannot get it into my head that it will not happen. Nope, never. The longest it will ever look decent is in the past.
So, I always think, I'll let it grow a little longer and then trim it. Just a little longer, and then when I trim it it will look good. Just a little longer and it will be past my shoulders when I trim it. (Above my shoulders and I get an inevitable and yet totally unpredictable J, where it looks like 3 inches of my hair has decided to swoosh out away from my face. I realize that some people aim for a similar style, but a. it looks stupid on me, and b. I haven't the slightest idea how to get that under control.)
So, I wait.... and I wait.... and my hair attempts to grow. But mostly it gives up and falls out. Enhancing the all different lengths at the end appearance. I start putting it in a ponytail every single day, because then I don't really notice what's become of it. If I never actually have to make it look good, I don't really know how god awful it actually is.
And then, inevitably something sets me off. Something makes me realize. I don't know if its a brief moment of irrational anger at the being that makes my hair so effing messed up, or if its a moment of clarity when I come to peace, ever so briefly, with the fact that I will never have long, flowing, blonde hair.
This moment occurs when I have finally gone to the salon to get that trim. They kind of eye my hair with horror, but try to conceal what a hot mess they think it is and ask me what I'd like to do. I start with the plan. Just trim it a little. I beg them to keep as much as possible. Explain how much I'd like to have long hair.
And as I'm sitting in the chair, looking at myself in the mirror. That switch happens. And I say 'You know what, cut it all off.' And a few minutes later my hair is jaw-length. The stylist will ask 'are you sure?' first. Because he/she doesn't want to have me screaming irrationally that I want my hair back afterward, but really they are happy. Hair stylists hate damaged hair. They just want to cut it all away. The problem is, then I would never have more than a few inches of hair. And I think I do prefer sporting hair.
For a couple of weeks I love the fact that I can blow-dry my hair and it looks good in 5 minutes. I'm ready to go in no time. Lack of pony-tails not a problem. And then, that wish sneaks back up on me. Damn it. I want long hair!
And so the cycle begins again. Knowing this cycle well, having been through it many times, I would guess that my long hair will be jaw-length in the not too distant future.
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