My Ode - To my Soft, Curly Tresses too Wayward to Stay Pinned

If you didn't get the reference... A certain corny "Christian novel" author always wrote about girls bemoaning having hair that fit my title. So dumb. I would be shocked if any girl identified. :p

Rabbit trail over.

My hair. This is an ode to my hair. 

I'm not being sarcastic. I'm not joking. 

I'm pretty devastated.

And I've entered a period of mourning.

For my hair.

I'm grieving.

I'm sorrowing.

I'm experiencing loss.

Loss of my curly hair.

Oh, my beloved curly hair.

Vain, shallow, dramatic? 

Maybe, but nah.

I loved my hair.

I guess my hormones are at an all time weird. After carrying my two sons, my curls are going away. I started noticing it soon after Joel was born. I've been in denial. But now I know. I'm not just having endless bad hair days - although it is bad. ;) My hair is changing, and I don't know what to do with it. 

Oh, my curls.

I appreciated you. 

I loved you.

My family loved you.

My husband loved you.

From before we were together and every day since.

Stephen never failed to adore, compliment and admire my curly hair.

They say girls with curls just want straight hair. Nope. Not me.

Hair, 

I appreciated you. Every day. I was thankful for you. Every day. I knew how to take care of you, and loved to teach Caleb how to play with each lock oh, so, gently. "Boing" was one of his first words.

You were an integral part of my identity and the perfect expression of my personality. 

And now what? I don't even know you anymore. And I certainly don't know myself. How do I deal with the strangely partially curly but mostly straight strands of brown? How do I express my identity without totally overcompensating due to the lack of my curls? And will my ringlets ever come back?

I'm so sad. But now I need to figure out how to appreciate and be thankful for the weirdness left behind. 

My ode to my perfect ringlets now, is done.