Day 2:

First of all, can we acknowledge the major ginger-ness happening in this photo?

Just announcing to you all that I am still, in fact, a blonde. Despite what this photo looks like. Hey, thanks terrible tungsten lighting!

Not that I'm complaining, I want to be a ginger so badly. I'm at peace with this photo. But I'm also at peace with my natural blonde. Hence the reason I've never dyed it. 

(well, that, and fradey-cat syndrome.)

I want to start off by thanking everyone for the wonderful responses I received on yesterday's post.

I have had a lot of people comment here or facebook, via text, facebook message, and even in person. So thank you for validating my decision to share this with the entire internet.

Let's get down to business!

I would like to honor this day of making peace with my hair by reminiscing on some of my finer points in hair couture throughout my life.

Oh I just thought of the perfect title for this section:

A walk down memory MANE.

ha. hahaha.

Exhibit A: Infancy

I would like to take this opportunity to inform all of you that my nickname as a baby was "Kelvis."

As in, a mixture between Kelli and Elvis.

I think the pictures above probably reveal why, but just in case you're still wondering, my hair had a mind of its own. My mom tried gel, water, and every mother's last weapon: spit.

To no avail.

Childhood:

Oh yes, please let's talk about how I had the same haircut until I was 11. 90s moms sure knew where it was at.

The emerging year:

Let's appreciate that side pony. If you didn't rock that in the mid-2000s, either you're lying or you need to relive your puberty years. And may I point out a major development in the life of my hair:

SIDE BANGS.

Those were actually a good look for me, I kept them all the way until college when I got annoyed with always having hair in my face. And forehead breakouts. Not a fan.

One last classic for the books:

Sadly, our walk has reached its end.

For the last several years, I generally have felt at peace with my hair.

Sure it has its crazy days. But generally it does what I want it to and I take good care of it.

That being said, it was really nice to wake up today, brush it, and be done.

I didn't have to plan any extra time to do it.

And I realized that although I do very little to it, the way it looks after I've styled it is a lot different than the way it looks naturally. The waves aren't as even and the ends are frizzy.

But it didn't matter to me.

It's soft and it's fun to whip around when I'm dancing and it makes me feel feminine. A little extra frizz and a few stray waves don't change any of that.

Tomorrow: Making peace with your face (YIKES.)