It was June of this year, I had taken my son shopping for his 8th grade dinner dance and graduation. I was waiting for him outside of a store he was in, and feeling proud that he was getting prepared for a new chapter in his life as he transitioned to high school.
I'll blame it all on this nostalgia when the young lady walked up to me and asked could she show me how their flat irons worked on my hair. I gave her the side eye and proceeded to walk to her chair. While sitting there, she and her partner in crime were telling me how their flat irons were different, they didn't contain as much heat as other flat irons...blah, blah and blah. I knew better. My "good" and common sense told me to "get up now and walk away!", but I didn't listen. I shrugged and said "what the heck, do it". One girl took a small section of my hair, straightened, twirled it and left me with a cute little spiral curl. Cute, but honestly, I wasn't impressed. The other girl, wanting to show up her homegirl, took another section of my hair, straightened and twirled it and I immediately knew something was wrong. I smelt seared hair! It was the same scent I smelled very often while working in a hair salon, so I was very familiar with it. I think I blanked out and then decided to listen to my "good" and common sense. I got up and walked away while she was still talking.
It was very humid when we left the mall. I knew once I went outside, my fancy curls were sure to swell and revert. The first section that was straightened did, but the second one seemed like it got straighter. I panicked. I said to myself "WHY in the world did you let her do that to you?!. You KNOW better!", but it was too late.
I walked in the house and immediately went to my bathroom and doused the front of my hair with water. The piece that seemed to get straighter with the humidity, was now a limp, lifeless, heat damaged piece of stringy long hair.
I was sick. I was mad. I was embarrassed. I sat in the bathroom and stared at this thing hanging in my face. I finally walked downstairs and showed my husband. I told him I was cutting it off! He said "no, that's way too much hair to cut!", but the decision was made. I felt worse leaving my hair in its current state. It was better for me and my hair that I cut ties and start anew. I got my shears, cut the section of hair close to my scalp (there was no hair to pick up) and actually felt better. A load was lifted and I no longer had the constant reminder of my mistake.