My Hair and I Essay -- Personal Narrative Writing

My Hair and I At almost point in a womans life, she is, if like most women, unhappy with her bullsbreadth. A woman with straight hair wishes for crisp ringlets. A woman with curly hair wants stick-straight locks. Thick and coarse desires to be fine and prunener. Fine and thin begs for wide hair. I was one of those women. My hair has an faculty, personality, and life of her own. I tinge to my hair as she because, although by technical definition my hair is non a separate living being, and although I start no substantiation of her life to show others, I know that she not only grows and reproduces (two characteristics by which many measure life), but she responds to stimuli, shows emotions, and can reason. For much of my life, my hair and I were diametrically opposed in appearance, personality, and temperament. On my head is a thick mane of jet-black coarse curly hair. Each hair is muscular, with plenteous heft and hutzpah to hold a 5-pound dumbbell. I, in contrast, am a ve ry petite girl with the arm strength of a gnat. My hair is wild. I am demure. My hair is boisterous, I, except occasionally, am composed. My hair is an extrovert, gaining energy from those around her. I am an introvert, preferring to curl up with a slap-up book. For many old age, I coveted anyones hair that was anything that my hair wasnt. Despite our differences, we have come to a mutual understanding. And, now, I can say, with some confidence, that my hair and I are friends, not just forced to be together because of genetics. But I can admit this only after years of hard lessons and experience. I cant remember the day my hair and I separate ways. We utilise to get along when we were young Displayed in the ponytail fountain on top of my head, she was quite cooperative.... ...at night, I loved my hair, every single coast of it. I loved her ability to be straight or curly, foxy and sexy or fun and bouncy. I found myself brushing my pass through my hair, and she cherished the affection. I bought every hair product Pamela used in my hair, hopeful I could shape my hair myself. And, although it took a few weeks to learn Pamelas styling techniques, my hair and I quickly found a rhythm. We completed we didnt have to be enemies. We experimented with dozens of different hairstyles, lengths, products, and appliances, and my hair was amused by all of them. As much as possible, I tried to revere her assets, and she tried to respect my needs. Of course, occasionally, my hair would turn her mood at an unseasonable time, but I was no longer caught by surprise when this happened. My hair and I have happily co-existed like this for many years.