
Finally, when I was 7, she agreed to let my hair be cut. It was
so painful for her that she couldn't stay in the beauty parlor and watch it be done.
When it was over, I had a nice short haircut. The tight curls never came
back, but my hair was always thick and wavy.

Trying to get the curl back, my mother occasionally took me to a
beauty parlor for a permanent, but the beautician told her I didn't really need one.
My mother took over the care of my hair and always rolled it in
curlers or pin curls and brushed it for me every morning before I went to school. In
fact, when I was going to enter the convent, after high school, my biggest fear of turning
over my life to God, was that I would have to do my own hair for the first six months,
before I got my headpiece--and I didn't know how. This may have been the first clue
that my dedication to the religious life was not entirely as deep as it should have been
for someone who was about to enter a convent!

(isn't that a cute picture of baby Jeri?)
When the kids went to nursery school, I was in my earth mother
period. I often went bra-less, I was literally barefoot and pregnant much
of that time, and I decided to let my hair grow. I didn't cut it for 3-4 years and
it became this big bushy mass that was pretty much straight, and very difficult to get a
brush through (and about impossible to get a comb through!)
It got to where it came to a couple of inches below my shoulders and
really did not look very good (especially when I decided to give myself the auburn locks
of Maureen O'Hara and tried coloring it. Purple was not a good color for me...)
I finally gave up on the long hair and went and had it cut again.
Amazingly, suddenly it seemed that the curl came back. Not the tight curls of
my childhood, but definitely more curl than I had for years. The beautician that I
talked to said that often hair that had been curly once, when allowed to grow and let the
weight pull all the curl out of it, when cut the curls would spring back again.

My hair was so thick and curly that I got pulled out of a mall one
day by a hoity toity stylist who had come to show beauticians how to cut naturally curly
hair. His model had not shown up and he asked if I would allow him to cut my hair.
It was, by far, the very best cut I ever had, even if he did spend the whole time
talking about how ashamed I should be to go out in public looking the way I did and how
disgusted he was at my appearance. (I had just run out for a quart of milk and had 5
children at home waiting for me!)
My mother, who was not born with curly hair, like a couple of her
sisters, was aways jealous of my hair. Almost every time she saw me she would grab
my curly hair and say something like "LOOK at that hair. God, it just
makes me sick to look at it." I understood that this was a backhanded
compliment and that it made her sick because she wanted curly hair like I had, but I
finally exploded at her one day and told her how it made me feel to have my mother always
telling people how sick it made her to look at my hair. Amazingly, that was
one of my things that she actually remembered. She hasn't mentioned my hair and how
she felt about it since.
But something started happening a few years ago. My hair
started thinning. It has been about 3 or 4 years now. First I started noticing
more hair than usual in the drain after a shower. Beauticians stopped commenting
about how wonderfully luxurious my hair was, and started asking if I wanted to buy
"product" that would give my hair more body. More body??? I
had the hair that needed no body. It had its own!
But as I look back over old photos and comparing with photos taken
today, I have to admit that I definitely do not have the hair that I had before.
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Not this any more
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...but this
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I have to accept the fact that my thick, luxurious hair is not going
to come back. I'm still in pretty good shape, but as much as it got ho-hum
tiresome to have people tell me what great hair I had...it would be nice to have that hair
again.
At least I don't have to worry about my mother feeling sick when she
looks at my hair. Now it's me who does it!
2 comments:
Well, here we go again. My hair was/is not as curly as yours, but naturally curly nonetheless. And I tried dying it red once. It didn't turn purple, but I never got used to seeing that redhead in the mirror - so I dyed it back. I couldn't help my girls with their hair, because I didn't know how to do my own. I can't use a hairdryer, either. And now it's thinning a big, all white/grey, and kept cut very short. I do now know what to tell the stylist when she asks how to cut it, though. 8^)
You still have more hair than I ever had (except in the era of Big Hair, when I teased it out to hell'n'gone). When my mother curled my hair around her finger, she was lucky if it didn't straighten before she focused the camera!
I am please to say that my daughters inherited good hair from their father -- and maybe from mine. But my oldest daughter has inherited something from my mother that I didn't: premature grey.
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