When I was a tween, teenager and young woman, my hair was the bane of my existence. It is shallow, I know, but my hair never did what I wanted it to.

My hair was curly, frizzy and funny looking. I wanted sleek straight hair like all the other girls in my class. I use to torture it. Blow dry it.  I ironed it with an actual clothing iron.  I used the curling iron on it. Permed it. Used the flat iron on it.

A couple of years ago I decided to embrace my hair. I was tired of spending 30 minutes or more on my hair when I got ready for work. I read some books on how to care for curly hair (who knew such things existed?) and began to embrace my curl. I wash it.  I put a little product on it.  I let it go.  And I actually liked it. And I got a cut I liked and I kept it.

And my hair began to grow, and grow and grow. Until today it looks like this:

It’s all flat on the top of my head because I’ve been wearing it in a pony tail today.  You can’t really tell from looking at it, but it’s all the same length.  All the way round.  Generally the curl and body are pretty well distributed.

Earlier this spring, I decided I’d wait until my hair got long enough, and then have it cut and donate it to Locks of Love the not for profit place that makes wigs for kids who have lost their hair due to an illness of some variety; usually cancer or a disease called Alopecia.

Your hair has to be at least 10 inches long in order to donate.

Have I mentioned how hot it has gotten here?  It’s like hell on earth these days.  And it’s not even July or August when it gets really hot here.

Did you notice how MUCH hair I have?

I don’t know whether I’m going to make it.