I understand you’re caught in the awkward limbo between straight and curly, and let’s face it—you’re confused. But I’ve been more than patient with you over the years! It’s high time you start cooperating. Just choose a lane: straight, curly, or if you’re feeling generous, those effortless beachy waves that are anything but effortless.
While I appreciate a little kink in life, I’d rather not have it in my hair. I apologize for my past mistakes—dyeing, teasing, and being a tad rough—but can we put the past behind us? I’ve been treating you with kindness for a while now.
I’ve experimented with every organic oil you can think of: coconut, Moroccan, avocado. Yet, you remain indifferent, allowing flyaways to break through like a bad habit. I’ve tried every straightener, curling iron, and defrizzing product on the market. I’ve even dabbled with the so-called miracle lotions and potions, which only served as a reason for me to linger in the hot shower daydreaming about how fabulous you could look.
But alas, you resist every effort. I know you’re capable of being silky smooth—I’ve seen it after a good blowout that leaves my arms feeling like jelly. But within minutes of stepping outside, you transform into a traffic cone-shaped Brillo pad. And I know I shouldn’t bother when the weather is anything less than perfect, yet I keep trying, and you keep flipping me the bird.
Let’s talk about the finger-combing method that’s supposed to tame your wildness. Instead, it just makes me look like I had a wild night out. And wouldn’t it be lovely to swim without emerging looking like a Muppet? There’s no hat big enough to hide this chaos.
Heaven forbid I forget to wear a hair tie. Without one, I might as well pack it up and go home. I’ve tried every trick in the book—sleeping with rollers the size of soda cans, dry shampoo, and even pomade. Yet, on those rare occasions when you do look good, like last week when I was sick at home, no one is around to see it. What I wouldn’t give for you to behave for a night out or even a quick grocery run.
Those burns on my neck are from my salon-quality curling wand, which I thought could help create those dreamy beachy waves. The saying “it hurts to be beautiful” is no joke; you should need a special license to use one of those things. My expensive hair dryer, always set to cool with a diffuser the size of my backside, seems to go unnoticed by you. I get nothing for my gentle approach.
I wish I could say I’ve run out of patience, but the truth is, I can’t help but keep trying. Please, settle down. You aren’t meant to look crazy and unruly all the time—you’re not pubic hair! Are you just trying to remind me how chaotic my life is? Because if so, you’re nailing it. Every time I catch a glimpse of my reflection or snap a selfie, I’m reminded of the whirlwind surrounding me. I just want to appear a bit more put-together.
Until then, I guess I’ll be waiting for the day when “I just touched an electric fence” becomes the latest trend. But honestly, after four decades, I’m afraid that’s never going to happen, so please, just work with me here.
Yours with Frizzy Love,
Jenna with the Wild Hair
For more insights, check out this informative post on artificial insemination and learn more about options for becoming a parent at Make A Mom. And if you’re looking to explore home insemination, visit this blog post for helpful resources.
Summary: In a humorous letter, Jenna expresses her frustrations with her frizzy, unruly hair, wishing it would choose a style and cooperate. Despite her efforts with various products and techniques, her hair remains stubborn and chaotic. Jenna reflects on the struggles of managing her hair while juggling the chaos of life, humorously lamenting the challenges of achieving a polished look.