Someone once asked me why I always hang out at the edges of group photos. It’s because I’m aware of my big hair.
In elementary school, my two curly ponytails ruined a class photo when they expanded under the day’s humidity. My hair grew so big it hid the faces of the two kids sitting next to me. We had to reshoot that photo…so the whole class had to dress up again to retake the picture on another day…braids for me in round two. The mother of one kid in my class displayed the photo with my big hair for years prominently in their basement…even though they had a copy of the reshot photo.
In high school, I cut my hair short because as my then-nemesis would often point out, my hair was so long it covered my name on the back of my cheerleading uniform.
I heard about my hair in college and even recently and older neighbor told me I was too pretty to wear my hair “all over my head.”
Whatever!
Having big hair is my thing. And, though it’s taken some time to get there, I like my hair on me, just as much as I like your hair on you.