A Curly Girl's Tale: How I Grew to Love My Hair - Makeup and Beauty Blog

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A Curly Girl'southward Tale: How I Grew to Love My Hair

Things were all kittens and ice cream until I turned 12. To quote my 6th form diary, 12 was "a year of devastating change."

The commencement consequence occurred that fall, when my all-time friend, who happened to be my next door neighbor and partner in crime since I was 4, moved away to a mysterious place called "The Valley."

The second result struck that winter, when the unthinkable happened: puberty. I'll never forget the traumatic trip with Mom to J.C. Penney to buy my first bra.

Then, that summertime, puberty took away my sleek, straight pilus and replaced it with a big, frizzy mess.

And and then began my rocky relationship with curly pilus…

I guess technically my pilus is more wavy than curly, but back then all I saw was a head of hair that on its best days resembled a lion's mane.

Equally luck would have it, that look was in at the fourth dimension. Information technology was the '80s, when curls and the spiral perm reigned supreme. Curly girls roamed the hallways at schoolhouse. They moved in dumbo packs of frizzy hair, acid-washed denim jackets and Liz Claiborne purses.

It was only sheer dumb luck that my naturally curly hair happened to be "in" because I was shy and self-conscious at the time. Plumbing fixtures in mattered above all else.

Truth be told, I had no thought how to handle my unruly waves. This was well before I discovered broad-tooth combs and conditioner washing, even so my pilus and I eventually reached a sort of detente that would last for several years. I hadn't grown to honey it yet, but I didn't hate it anymore either. Nope, I saved that for the '90s.

Past the time I'd gone to higher, straight pilus was all the rage again. I was back to antisocial my waves and envying the girls with their lovely linear locks.

The several bad haircuts that followed didn't help. There was the poufy triangle cutting that left me looking like a Bichon Frise, or the cut in which the left side of my hair was a full inch shorter than the correct, or the razor-cut from hell (a frizzy nightmare!).

During those night years, I spent hours in bathrooms with accident dryers and brushes, hopping from one straightening serum to the next to fry my hair into stick-straight submission.

It wasn't until my late 20s that I started to feel different most my hair. I can't pinpoint exactly when or why it happened, only I recall it had to do with where I was in my life. I'd finally begun to understand who I was, and eventually, I think that started to interpret into how I felt near my hair.

As my curly confidence grew, then did my handbag of pilus tricks. Before long, I was request curly-haired friends for product recommendations and making appointments to different salons. Soon I'd learned nigh dry shampoo, conditioner washing and diffusers (oh, my!). Similar a hair jedi, I started working WITH my pilus's nature, and not confronting it.

Sure, I still bust out the flat iron from time to time, just now I love my curls. I dear how they look unlike from one 24-hour interval to the next, and how when I exit with the girls, I have the distinction of being "the chick with the curly hair."

It took decades for me and my pilus to get here, merely I'yard and so glad nosotros did. 🙂

Your friendly neighborhood dazzler addict,

Karen

kuglerarromed.blogspot.com

Source: https://makeupandbeautyblog.com/hair/powered-by-pantene-a-curly-girls-tale/

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