Hair one minute, Gone the next

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This is, without a doubt, one of the most unusual articles I have written, but why shouldn’t I write it? It’s about hair. Now, you may think “what’s this loon on about now?” but if you keep reading, you will understand why I chose to write it.

Hair. The thing that grows out of our heads. It also grows in several other places, but I’m not focusing on that. I’m focusing on head hair. Such a variety of hair in the world. Long, short, curly, straight, wavy, layered, chopped, dyed, natural, dreadlocks, blonde, brunette…I could go on, but I don’t want to bore you with obvious facts.

Like any other part of our body, hair can be one of the things that brings insecurities to us – depending on your feelings towards your mop that rests on top of your head. I know some people with the most amazing hair and they say it’s what gives them confidence. I, on the other hand, used to be beyond self-conscious of it.
Mainly because of its colour. My hair is a really dark brown, but it can easily be mistaken for black. In primary school, kids used to call me “blackhead” because of my very dark hair yet very pale skin which apparently made me look like a black-headed zit. Obviously, I wasn’t best pleased with that remark and used to get upset. They also took the mick for my hair being really curly. The comments ended up dying off and I didn’t care about my hair colour or style. Until secondary school.

For no reason that I am aware of, my hair decided to grow some little, light grey strands. People picked up on it immediately and although I didn’t react much, it made me feel so insecure.

I felt really insecure up until 2 months ago. I became friendly with a girl online. We’re not best friends or anything, but she is a nice girl to talk to. One day, she showed me a photo of herself which shocked me. The photo of her lacked hair. In other words, she was bald. Completely bald. It worried me at first because I thought the worst and that she had been having chemotherapy. She corrected me, though, and just said she has a condition where she is allergic to her own hair.

The conversation we shared didn’t last very long and we soon ended up talking about other things, but the thought never left my mind. Some people out there are unable to have any hair at all. It made me realise how stupid my little insecurity was and I started feeling the love for my hair.

Recently, after challenging myself to help 100 charities, I looked at hair charities. I found one which requires donations of hair for it to make wigs for children called the Little Princess Trust. I’ll always be able to grow my hair, so I’ve decided to grow it long and donate about 7 inches of my hair to said charity. Not only that, I will be dying my hair purple next year in aid of Domestic Violence Awareness. My hair will have one freaking shock next year, but it’s all for a good cause. I want to get over that pathetic insecurity and help people who can’t have but yet dream for what I have.

So, yeah. That’s it. I’m now going to go and have a cup of tea whilst getting over the fact I just wrote an article on something I never thought I would write about.

Related Article: My Help 100 Charities Challenge!

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Image Credit – The girl with the purple hair is my friend, Kristy Calvin. Thanks for letting me use the photo, Kristy! Other images are from Little Princess Trust.


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