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.