Confessions of Jenny: The Great Hair Debate

Let's talk for a few minutes about my hair. You should probably have a seat because it might be longer than a few minutes. I was born with no hair. Momma used to tape bows to my head until my curls started growing in when I was a toddler. It was traumatizing.

Pointing out that I was a bald baby to my cousins at Christmas a few years ago.

My hair as a toddler - don't mind my screaming. Water terrified me.

My poor mother has thin, straight hair, so she really had no clue what to do with my thick, curly hair. She used to brush it. It traumatized me. I used to cry because it hurt so much. My brothers still tease me about how much I hated getting my hair brushed growing up. They don't understand. Curls are not meant to be brushed. So when I was in fourth grade, Momma had my hair chopped off. It was traumatizing. (Do you see a pattern?) I can't even show you pictures because it looked terrible.

My go-to hair style. Long, curly, bangs.

When I was in junior high, I started figuring out that I had curly hair. It was a bit revolutionary for me. My hair was not in fact a huge mess of red frizz. I started reading everything I could about hair care, and began learning how to fix it. (Don't get me wrong, I still had terrible hair in junior high and high school.)

My senior photo - before the days of flat irons. I used to straighten my hair with a curling iron. That's talent.

In college I came to really understand my hair.

My hair in its most natural state. (Don't mind Lenzi, there's no telling what we were up to.)

I was known as the girl with the long, curly, red hair. When people met me, there first question was almost always, "Is that your natural hair?" Which really if you think about it, is kind of a tactless question. What if it was a wig? I kept it down to my waist for most of the college years. I would cut 4 or 5 inches off every now and then, which was a big change for me, but it still remained long.

My friend Jess and I getting ready for a wedding.

Right after college, I cut my hair to shoulder length. I got bangs. It was new and different and exciting, but soon I missed my long hair. I missed having people at Wal-mart tell me how amazing my long hair was. I missed being able to braid it. I missed not having to fix my bangs every single day. So I let it grow again.

My friend Bryce convinced me to eat Wasabi straight up.

Two years ago was the last time I got it chopped off. I donated 14 inches to Locks of Love. I had "grown-up hair".

Looking very grown up with my short hair.

It was so free feeling. My head was so light. I could nod and shake my head without getting a headache, but I still missed having long hair, so I let it grow. Since then I have cut many inches off, but I haven't gone back to short hair. I just don't feel like its me.

This is what it looks like straight. In case you were wondering.

But now I'm going through the hair debate again. Do I want it long? Do I want it short? On Saturday night, I cut 7 inches off my friend Raylene's hair. (No, I'm not a hair stylist - just over confident in my hair styling abilities.) And her hair looks so cute now. It has so much body and life, which makes me think I should cut mine.

After my last hair appointment. The tired eyes are the result of not wearing make-up.

But then I remember all of the traumatizing that I experienced as a child, and I just want to keep my hair. I have so much fun fixing it....but it takes forever. So that is my quandary. I don't know what to do.