“I Hate You” and Other Self-Affirmations
Another woman told me she hates me today. It happens from time to time. On this particular occasion, the setting was in the hair care aisle of Wal-Mart. “Is your hair naturally curly,” the stranger queried. I nodded, waiting for the repercussions of my honesty. “I hate you!” she said, smiling, as she walked away. The irony of this is that as this woman expressed her “hatred” for me, I was browsing for yet another product to add to my personal arsenal in my perpetual campaign of chemical warfare on my hair. I myself tend to “hate” people with that glossy, smooth hair that looks like it weighs a million pounds and wouldn’t frizz even in the highest humidity.
When I was little, my mother kept my hair cut really short. I looked like a cross between a used Q-Tip and a just-hatched, really ugly chicken.
As I got older and wrested control over the growth on my head, I let my hair grow, but I never let it go native. Frizz was never in style. I was pretty hot stuff for a while in the 80’s when “big” hair was in. My curling iron, can of Aqua Net and I could do some serious big hair.
