Pro-V

I hope you will all indulge me in what is probably the shallowest thing I will ever post on this blog. I was reading some old posts from the early days of this thing and I think perhaps I am guilty of being boring lately. So I'm hoping to freshen up my writing a little bit, even if that means some nights I just really want to talk about my hair.

That's right. Hair.

I'm kind of a big proponent of being comfortable in your own skin-identifying the parts of yourself that are awesome and getting over the things that you can't change. I am also a big fan of taking good care of your body and believe that when you feel strong and healthy, you worry less about whether you look like Jillian Michaels. I made peace with my small breasts and curvy midsection a long time ago and although I am always trying to do better in the wellness area, I don't kill myself to achieve an impossible dream. That said, I seriously hate my hair.

I have long been trapped in family of good hair. My dad is sixty and still has his, my grandfather grew a lovely silver ponytail halfway down his back in his seventies, my mother has thick red hair that no box or stylist was ever able to help me copy. My brothers grew long, curly hair in high school and my two sisters always look like they stepped off a hair show runway. I even got a bunch of in-laws with lovely hair. I basically hate all of them.

I had long hair that I used to put in hot rollers EVERY SINGLE DAY of high school and it was always shiny and bouncy. And then the week before graduation I cut it all off thinking it would look cuter in my cap (it didn't) and for some reason, it would never. grow. again.

So for about 17 years now, I have lusted after long, shiny, healthy hair. I get good haircuts, I buy expensive products, I pick up every single magazine that promises better tresses. I watch Gossip Girl and get distracted by how wonderful all their hair looks. And then I suck it up and tell myself not everyone has big brown eyes with long ass lashes and shut up right now and count your blessings. But I'm a girl, and sometimes in my darkest "seriously, I'M still single" moments I wonder if it's because my hair is too short.

Well boys and girls, I'm here to tell you that sometimes you learn a life lesson through your hair trials. A few months ago I went to bed with wet hair because nephs were here and I didn't want to wake them with the hair dryer. Yes, every single day for most of my adult life, I blow dry my hair straight with a round brush and then get it even straighter with a flat iron. Nevermind the fact that puberty gave me naturally curly hair-it's more like naturally 80's permy, so I go straight. I got up the next morning and it was exactly the kinked mess I was expecting. I told Tasha I would have to wash it again and she looked at me like I had three heads. "No you don't, you curl it like that silly." So I did a trick Natalie taught me when she visited last summer and readers-MY HAIR HELD IT'S CURL FOR TWO DAYS. I tried it for a week. Wash, go to bed wet, curl in the morning. One whole week of good hair days.

I tried it for two weeks. I tried it for a month. Good hair days. Hair growing. Shiny hair. Happy hair. Hair with body. I went to get it cut and my stylist said, "wow, I can't believe how bouncy this is." I told her my story and she said, "you've seriously been blowing naturally curly hair straight every single day? You shouldn't do that." Turns out, my hair wants to do one thing-curl, and it wants to be left alone for the most part. If I let it go it's own way and try not to wreck it, it's paying me back by being the happy, healthy mane I've sort of been dreaming about.

Well you were warned, super shallow. But here's what I've been thinking about with all the spare time I have now that I don't blow dry my hair anymore-maybe sometimes we get really obsessed with something we want and the answer is A) under your nose and B) contingent on looking at the problem in a different way. Looking back, I kind of did the same thing everyday and expected magically better hair. Turns out I was probably the one keeping it down with all the heat and harsh brushing. I wasn't kidding-life lessons through hair. It can happen.

i haven't been taking many photos lately but you can sort of tell here.



I promise to come up with something terribly insightful tomorrow ; )