
I could take the expected route here. I know what i could say, but this is day one and i need to break this truth in slowly.
I could tell you that i hate my anxiety, i hate the rollercoaster ride of mental illness, i hate the length and truth of my medical record, i hate how my life unravelled, i hate how i hurt you.
I do hate all of those things. But, it's not a ferocious hate because all of those things have linked together to create this place i'm at right now. Bruises and all.
The one thing i've hated my entire life? My hair. I have coarse, thick, frizzy, curly hair. As a child i was teased relentlessly about it and truth be told? It was really bad. Back in the days before hair products my hair was a brushed out frizz bomb that looked like a giant helmet made of one of those rusty pot scrubbers.Plus, it was bright red, which at the time was not fashionable. At all.
Sometime around grade 10 i discovered "gel" and a hair crimper. I died my hair black and wore it straight out, crimped up. Something akin to Robert Smith. I liked it a bit better then, though it is pretty cringe worthy in photos.
In university i grew it out. I learned not to fight it, i embraced the curls and it was eventually super long and kind of lovely.
Then i had kids and cut it all off. And now it's been short for 13 years. I spend tons of money getting it cut every six weeks, coloured and, most recently, straightened. I still hate it 90% of the time.