Hair Fiasco

I've learned a lesson the brutally hard way. "Be content with what you have." As a woman, that's a rather difficult precept. Especially when it comes to hair. Those who have straight hair want curly hair. Those who have curly hair want it straight. I fall into the latter group. My hair has not been my friend this year. I had almost gotten there, content with my curly, wiry mop. I don't know if it was the extreme humidity of this summer, but it seemed extra frizzy to me. My hairdresser suggested it was the increasing amount of grey hair making it more difficult. Grey hair apparently has more 'texture' than, shall we say 'younger colored hair'? A little slap in the middle-aged face...*sigh*

So I opted to have a relaxer done this summer, try to tame some of that wild kinky grey. That took a good bit of the frizz out but my hair was stuck in this weird state of half curly, half straight bizarre mess. I could flat iron it for a nice straight look but that takes so long! I'm a shake and go kinda girl-I don't have time or the desire to fuss over my hair. I tried a fat curling iron for a different look, still not what I was hoping to achieve.

Now there's the catch: just what I was hoping to achieve...Perfectly tossed, gently messy, no-fuss hair. Yeah? I had the picture in my head, but how to convey that to the poor stylist charged with trying to make my mane behave? It's a hopeless cause. Truly.

So, a few months past having the relaxer done and noticing my frizz trying to return, I decided to go all out, have it chemically straightened and...hopefully...much easier hair to flat iron....It seemed like such a great idea at the time.

You trust these people who do hair. And actually, the previous woman who did the relaxer on my hair referred me to a friend of hers who was more experienced with straightening hair, so I thought I ought to be able to put my faith in her, right? Oh, to simply be content with what we have...

I made my appointment for last Wednesday, wanting to be all straight and shiny for my big weekend downtown at the WOF conference. Bill was off that day so he tagged along and waited while I committed hair suicide, then we'd go off to our Wednesday lunch date after.

New hair lady was very nice, shop spacious and cheery. She even had the Christian radio station playing and Scripture signs decorating the salon along with a couple beautiful pictures of Jesus. I felt completely at ease as I placed my confidence and my head of hair in her hands. I didn't worry when the straightening chemical started burning my scalp-I thought surely some discomfort is normal in a procedure like this. The tingling subsided as she rinsed and conditioned my newly straightened hair. I faced away from the mirror so couldn't see myself as she blew my hair dry and flat ironed it smooth and sleek. But as she swung the chair around so I could see the finished result, my heart sank into my stomach. It was so thin! And flat! I smiled half-heartedly--good girls are gracious and never rude. I thanked her, paid the bill, and slunk out of the shop, shorn and sad.

I didn't realize until the next day she had burned off a good portion of my hair. As I ran my fingertips along my scalp all I could feel were sharp stabs of stubble. More so in the front of my head but not so bad in the back. I feel almost bald, it's so thin around my face. I can't help but wonder what disaster awaits as my hair grows back in, kinky curly short chunks of hair competing with the longer straightened hair...It could be a good time to invest in some cute hats...

So, I've certainly learned my lesson to be content with the frizzy fuzz the good Lord has blessed me with. Never again will I attempt to 'fix' what He so graciously gave. There has to be a better way to tame the burly beast...