Messy Hair

Not a very polished look.

I briefly contemplated writing a serious post regarding yesterday's events at the Boston Marathon. It was a terrible day for our country. What happened yesterday touched me as a mother, a runner and as a human being.

I could write paragraphs about what happened, but I have decided not to. Our televisions and social media has been blowing up with the horrifying images from Boston.  So instead, I'm writing a light hearted post on the most interesting of topics: my hair.

It's been a long time since I provided my lovely readers with a hair update! It has been one year since I started growing my lovely locks. One very long year. A year of hats, pins, headbands and frustration. Trust me, you don't want to be around a woman getting ready for a night out when she is unhappy with her hair.

For years I sported my super short haircut. I received many unsolicited compliments and my hairstyle became part of my very own spunky personality. It made me feel unique, brave and confident. Yet so many nights I would dream of myself with my long hair in a tight spiral perm (like I had in the early 90's) or a long ponytail. Those dreams made me feel young. I equated hair with youth. My short hair after all, came only after I had my first child.



My attempt at a flat iron. You have no idea how hard this was



I was reluctant to grow out my hair for a number of reasons. To begin with, I have never had particularly beautiful hair. It's a plain brown, with some funky waves and a strong colic on only one side of my head. When I had hair I would fight it. I would curl it, or iron it, pull it this way and that. I spent entirely too much time and energy on my freaking hair. It was so refreshing to wake up every morning and know exactly what I would look like and be certain that my morning routine would be brief. 

I was also afraid that growing out my hair would take away my something-special-factor. As mentioned earlier, my hairstyle became my signature look-it was a part of my identity.

But my husband pleaded. Grow it out! It will be fun!  For whatever reason, he really, really wanted me to grow out my hair again. And so as my youngest baby turned one I conceded. I started the process.

And here I am one year later. A shaggy mop of unstyled hair. It isn't particularly pretty, but my husband likes it and I admit that it does make me feel softer, more feminine, prettier. And you know what? Surprise, surprise, I'm still spunky Rachel! Okay, sometimes I spunky pissed off at my hair in the morning Rachel, but that was to be expected.



Since I finally have some hair to color, I am doing blond highlights and loving it. It's fun to play with my hair color again and switch things up from time to time. As for styling,  now I get to mix that up too-I can spend 30 minutes fighting with a flat-iron to get a semi-polished look, I can look disheveled and messy and leave my hair down, or I can be funky and silly and wear pigtails. So while, I will never, have beautiful flowing waves of hair, I can say that I am happy with my decision to make a change and grow it out.



So lovely readers, do you have "difficult" hair? If so, how do you look pulled together, polished and professional when needed? Advice wanted!





XoXo

Rachel