My hair as a metaphor for life

You live and learn, they say. I’ve never been sure about the last part. You live. Most times you don’t really learn. Most times the lessons are hard, and complicated, and they are not really learned, more like hammered into your brain. Lessons like don’t put foot cream before stepping into the bathroom and never, ever have a mud bath are the easy ones.  Others, though, others are much more complicated.

Anything hair related falls into this category. You laugh now, oh, you laugh. And if you laugh, it’s probably because you are one of the two people in the world who are perfectly content with their own hair. If you are one of those two people, I just have this to say:

I don’t like you.

However, if you are like me, just another slave to your mane, then welcome. Join the club. You are most definitively not alone.

Your hair so pretty, some people tell me. It’s wavy, and full. Luscious and gentle. I wish I had hair like you, they say, and I try to smile. I thank them. And, deep down, I wonder: do they know? Do they realize that it takes 2 hours for my hair to look presentable? Can they tell I’m a fraud?

I think they can. Deep down, I think we are all the same.

My hair, for example, my hair is thick. And full. And frizzy. No, not wavy. Not curly either. Just …frizzy. Countless of products go into its maintenance. I’ve considering a separate shelf for all the hair products I’m forced to purchase month after month. I probably spend more on hair products that I do on …gasp …shoes!

And that….that is just wrong.

So, New Year’s resolution….I will …I will …oh, who am I kidding? I will continue doing the exact same thing. But, at the very least, I’ll try to enjoy it. I’ll take the compliments and smile. It’s not easy, after all. So, yes, that IS my hair. And, it looks damn good.