I was born with a head full of curls.
As a kid I hated them. I wanted long silky straight hair. As a teenager I did everything in my power to flatten them. I was a teenager in the seventies, and there wasn't much available to help with frizzy curly hair. I would set it in curlers and sit under the hair dryer for an hour. I also owned enormous curlers that I would put in my hair then attempt to sleep in. I would roll a towel in the space between my neck and the pillow, but they always guaranteed a terrible night's sleep. When I had bangs I would scotch tape them to my forehead. No matter what I did it never stayed straight.
In college I discovered a blow dryer with a brush attachment. This allowed me to brush dry my hair straight. All was good - as long as it didn't rain. Then up in a ponytail it went.
At 23 I got married and cut my hair short. I wore a shorter length than usual, but not really short. I would wash it and blow dry it every day - sometimes twice a day if I was going out in the evening. This was a lot of work, but I had the time - then.
At 30 I gave birth to quadruplets. Yikes! There was absolutely no time to fuss over my hair! Once again I wore it short, and I let it do whatever it wanted. It curled and I learned to love my God-given hair. I didn't have the time not to.
Oh dear, then menopause came around, and my hair went completely lifeless! My hairdresser introduced me to the flatiron, and I was in love. The flatiron not only straightened my hair but it stayed straight! Rain, shine, heat, humidity my hair was unbelievably straight! My family hated it. Everyone said, "That's not you!" I attempted to let it curl every now and then, but no luck. It hung dull and lifeless with a few funny looking bumps here and there.
So, I continued to flatiron.
Then one day I noticed that there was a little more curl. So I let it dry naturally and I set it in hot rollers. I liked it, but that was because I liked the hair styles of the eighties.
Time went by. I went through menopause. I looked in the mirror one morning, and I saw more curls. I thought I will give it a try, and I liked it. My curls had returned. Actually, my curls have multiplied. My hair is curlier now than it ever was!
My family is happy again.
God, thank You for my hair. Taking away my curls made me appreciate them. My family always loved my curls. They said my curls were part of me. It took me a lot longer to be grateful for them. I am sorry. Thank You!
You're not going to want me to fall in love with my grey hair, are you?