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But Joe wanted to see me with long hair. He begged me to let it grow out, and the trade-off was that he would play with my hair whenever I wanted him to, as long as I kept it growing. Honestly, my love for my husband (and for having my hair played with) was sometimes the only thing that helped me resist the urge to go for a big change.
I did come to love having long hair, for the most part. But there are a few things about it that got to me, like:
- Catching it whenever I put my purse over my shoulder
- Snagging it in the car door when I sit and close it too quickly (OUCH!)
So anyway. Awhile back, I told Joe I really wanted to donate my hair, and he agreed to let me do it if I agreed to dye it whatever color he wanted; but I had to make sure it wouldn't be pixie-short, so it needed enough time to grow out a decent amount. I decided it would be long enough right around the time I was getting my braces off, so why not go for a whole new look once I was done looking like a teenager? And thus: I am now the owner of a sophisticated, sexy blonde bob!
It turned out a few inches shorter in the back than Joe was picturing it, but I've assured him that I will let it grow out again, and hey -- it's not the shortest it's ever been, and definitely not a butch-looking cut like I've had before (ahem, SERIOUSLY, 2006!). And while I was blonde-ish in June 2010, that was just a subtle highlight over my natural dirty-blonde, and this new color is an all-over blonde with honeys and caramels throughout it, and I LOVE IT. I may even go a little lighter at my next appointment!
Side note: Do you think I look like "me" in the 1991 picture (my sixth birthday)? I feel like most people, when they hit age six or seven, start to look like "them" -- the person they'll be for the rest of their lives -- but I don't know if that was true for me. I think I may not have started looking like me until I was like 13. But I digress.