Sad to say, I have not retained as much growth as I would like this year. My hair is not shorter, just not as long as I thought it would be after my last major hair mishap. This year, for me, has been one of weekly twists and updos, and less of long-term protective styling.
So I decided to do a length check. My first option was to buy a length-check shirt, but Dimeji snuffed life out of this idea. He later explained to me that the price of the one he got was just too ridiculous for a mere printed T-shirt. I kept explaining to him that it wasn’t just any t-shirt with prints, but a length-check one, but my speech sounded like Greek to him. I eventually fumbled my way into making my own T-shirt. It was now time for the big reveal.
In a bid to know the real length of my hair, I pulled my hair strands back so much that it hurt. I was disappointed to see that it was just a little longer than shoulder length, not even mid-back. I was so sad that I did not smile the whole day. I guess I had expected too much, or I didn’t pamper my hair as much as I thought I did. Maybe I should just put an end to the strange concoctions I sometimes come up with, and have a stable regimen.
I also noticed varying lengths in my back hair strands. I know if I straightened them to see how they really were, they would appear jagged. Since my ends were not week, I decided against getting a trim to even them out. I believe they would even out themselves.
Dimeji came around later in the evening, and noticed my countenance.
“Here we go again. What is it this time?” He started.
“Nothing. Just my hair.” I answered.
He took a good look at my hair, which was twisted into six section, and looked rather plain. “It looks just fine to me. What is wrong?”
“Can you imagine, after all the work I put into it, it is not as long as I thought it would be.”
“Ehmm, it sure looks longer than it was last year.” He countered.
I eyed him. “You would not understand.”
He giggled. “That is what you always say when you know I’m right.”
I gave him a look that could burn his hair to ashes, and he got the message immediately.
“Okay, okay. Sorry, Anna my love.” I wasn’t easing up to his sweet talks. He continued. “But, why don’t you use extensions?
“Wait. I mean those natural hair clips that you told me ladies with natural hair are using now. It would make your hair look longer.”
“Excuse meeeeee.” I almost screamed.
“And how will that make my own hair grow longer, or healthier?”
“I thought…” he paused. “I think I don’t have much to say again. You are right about me not understanding.”
His conceding did not make me feel better. A lot of times, guys just feel the illusion of something and the thing are the same. If Dimeji thought I was more concerned about appearing to be something that mattered to me, than really being it, I wonder if there’s any hope.
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