I Think I'm Obsessed with My Hair

So I've discovered something: for me, hair makes all the difference in the world.

This is coming from a girl who's tried on quite a few different hairstyles.

When I was younger I had one hairstyle: a bob.  That's all my mum would let me have because apparently I looked so darn adorable in it.

SO darn adorable.

As I grew older and reached my rebellious stage (that came when I was about 5 and lasted into college), I decided that I had had enough of the bob.  I felt childish and chubby (and let's face it; if that picture above is anything to go off of, I was chubby), and it was time to grow up and grow out (hair, not tummy).  I grew out long, luscious...ok, who am I kidding?  My hair was long and thin and flat.  The end.

Long.  Luscious.

It made me feel more grown-up though.  I could wear pony-tails.  I could braid my hair (didn't know how to).  I could curl my hair (nah, doesn't hold a curl worth crap).  I could...Wear it down.  Every.  Single.  Day.  It got kind of boring.  And when I get bored, I like to change my hair.  So I spent many a year as a redhead.  Then when I was leaving for college I went insane: bangs.

If you're a meme fan, imagine Neil Tyson deGrasse here.
I can't put the accompanying words.

And then, in the prime of my life when I should have wanted to look as attractive as possible, I decided to do this:

My thoughts while taking this picture?
"Oh crap oh crap oh crap oh crap."

This was my dad's favorite hairstyle on me, because it led to an awkward incident where a cop pulled over my mother for speeding while I was in the car and mistakenly thought we were lesbian partners.  So...that was different.  It ended up being my least favorite hairstyle because it led to every guy I was interested in thinking I was attracted to girls.  Which makes dating difficult.  Plus, I do not have the nose for short hair.  Just no.  I messed with it as it grew out; trying different colors, different textures, different hats...

I used to think I was a Beatles fan.  And a rocker.  Turns out both were incorrect.

It was like puberty all over again.  All awkward-growing-out phase.  All the time.  I always felt unattractive, and I got bored with my hair weekly.  And yet, I miss it from time to time.  I look back at my past with rose-colored glasses and miss that ridiculous hair.  Is this a metaphor?  Maybe.  

No.  No, it's not.

Really though, this is the longest I've had it since 2007.
It's weird.