More hair

21 Apr

Every night this week my hair has been different, and always longer. Last night it was still short on the sides, but the rest down my back, bleach blonde underneath that I noticed only when I flipped it upside down to make a high pony. Then a bun on top. Then two little braids in which, suddenly, it was too short for and the braids unravelled. This made me want to cry, but I didn’t. I knew I had a lesson in patience. There is always a lesson.

I am not me with long hair. But I want to be. I’m ready to be. Everything grows in the hair, so slowly you can’t see until one day you realize you can make a ponytail. You can make something else. You can be something different. Or you have arrived on another side. It’s just hair and then, how different and the same it makes us. We talk about hair too much. I like it.


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