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I kind of love when people ask me if my hair is real or fake.

I chopped a ton of it off about two years ago and donated it – giving myself hair to about my collarbones. For me; this was insane. My hair has been down to my waist since high school and cutting it off was like a freeing sensation (see: quarter-life crisis explanation) to which I only freaked out and literally lost my mind (thinking the hair had something to do with it…you know Britney shaving her head and all?)

So anyway, it has taken two full years to grow back to what it was before I hacked it all off. Now I know I did it for a good cause, but I don’t have the lady balls in me to do it again. Especially because last week someone finally asked me if my hair was real. I got to bear a big toothy grin and say: yes!

I know I am weird about my hair, but it being long is just a part of me. And I now feel like if I cut it off again I will go off the rocker again and that is something I just don’t need right now. I get eyes rolled at me when it gets caught in the car door or zippers. People at the gym look at me funny when my ponytail is sticking to my back. It is what it is.

So why the long hair? I am not really sure. Maybe it’s because it is just naturally straight and hair dryers and flat irons confuse me. It’s easy to get out of the shower and brush it out and just go. Sometimes people ask me if it was curly or unmanageable would I use products and tools – I don’t have an answer to that. Suave shampoo/conditioner is as far as my product knowledge goes; and anything more than that makes me nervous.

If easy is my excuse, then I will let it be just that.

Long hair. Don’t care.

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