For as long as I can remember, I’ve had a serious love/hate cyclical relationship with my hair.
It starts with love: I get my hair cut short and I love it. Quick drying, perfect shape, and no heavy hair on my neck in the summer—what’s not to like?
But then I start to notice girls with ponytails at the gym or braids when they’re shopping, and I get a little jealous thinking about how nice it must feel to be able to get your hair out of the way when you’re exercising or trying on clothes.
I feel sort of like this. / Image via Olivia Loves to Blog
After a few weeks of being jealous, I decide that I hate my short hair and I need to grow it out immediately. Thus begins eight months of painful, high school level awkward hair. (Seriously—I thought I was done with the frizzy, thick, flips everywhere and refuses to be tamed hair when I was 15.)