Sunday, April 4, 2010

where do they get off

so, tonight, something happened that really, really upset me. because of several reasons. one, it was almost de ja vu. two, i really, really like my hair, and three, if i am clean, combed, and generally take care of myself/my hair, who's business is it anyway?

the de ja vu part. when my oldest daughter was getting married the first time our relationship was strained at best. lots of reasons, but it doesn't matter what they are. we are over it. but one thing that happened was that in the bride room, as i am putting the last stitches in her hand sewn (my choice) veil, she mutters to anyone who will listen to her (thank God i didn't quite catch what she was saying, exactly) "would SOMEONE do SOMETHING with my mother's hair?" so, tonight, my other daughter says "your hair looks like it is getting straighter." i try to deflect this (i know where it is going) with "but more wire-y" she says "yes, but maybe now you can DO SOMETHING with it." i snap back "I LIKE MY HAIR". argument started. not how i wanted to spend easter dinner. but they need to get over it. older daughter (this is now nearly 7 years after wedding 1) says "she needs to get over it. it is clean. it is well kept. you like it. if it weren't clean, or if it were knotted, we could say something and then we should."

now for the liking my hair part. all my growing up, i wanted my mother's hair. that thick almost curly, lustrous mane that she brushed back from her forehead like elizabeth montgomery in bewitched, only momma's was black. dark as night black. shine in the sun black. and when i was really little, so long and thick that she had to use nearly a whole box of pins to put it up before she went to work as a nurse. i loved momma's hair. i wanted momma's hair. mine was thin, limp, mostly straight, and dirty blond. like my father's. i didn't want to be like him. i wanted to be like momma. exotic, beautiful, momma. now, except the color, for the most part, i have momma's hair. not as thick, (thanks to medications) and not black, but almost curly (if i curl it, it really curls) and very much like momma's. i loved brushing momma's hair and i love brushing mine. i love my hair.

for the third part, brought up by my older daughter, i keep my hair clean. brushed. trimmed. cared for. i don't color it. don't dye it. don't curl it. don't use products in it for various reasons. but i take care of it. i don't fry it with treatments, curling irons, straightening irons, chemicals, processing, or whatever. because I LIKE MY HAIR!!!

i am 10 years younger than momma was when she died. when she died, i cut a lock of her hair to keep. if you asked me the most beautiful thing about momma, i would say her hair. she was a beauty, don't get me wrong, but her hair was truly her crowning glory. i hurts me to the core that my daughters can't see past the current "ideal" of beauty to see the real beauty in hair that is clean, combed, and enjoyed. and if i have to spend mega bucks and mega time to have "beautiful" hair, no thank you. God gave me beautiful hair. He gave me momma's hair.

Girls, one day, i pray, you will like yourself enough to like your own hair.

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