When I was a teenager I had long hair.   In those days I would unwind it, and spend an hour brushing.  I loved to feel the weight of it, and the swishing sound it made if I turned.

I loved to shake it over my arm, and see the highlights in the sun.

In Summer, it would turn to gold.  I could almost sit on it.


My friends would ask to comb or plait it, and it provided hours of amusement for other people.



‘Cut it!’  I was told,

‘Boys won’t ask you out!’

Everyone else dyed their hair, curled and twisted it, and I wanted to be like them, so one day I cut it.

I remember it fell to the floor, and I was no longer Cinderella.


I thought everyone would be pleased, but instead the too bright smiles, the high tones of ‘Oh! You cut your hair?’

It was deemed too short to style, and darkened after a while.

No-one asked me out anyway.


All the heroines I ever loved had long hair,.. Anne of Green Gables had long, auburn hair.

I still think long hair is very romantic, and I think it is lovely if it is a pretty colour.

I never grew my hair again. But sometimes I remember how it felt, to shake it loose at the beach, and feel the wind tear at it.



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