I Am Not My Hair….or Am I?

So, it’s time to confess. About a month ago I splurged on a rather luxurious hair treatment called Keratin Complex Smoothing Therapy by Coppola.
I thought if anyone needed hair therapy, it was me. I have literally wasted years of my life sweating through a forty minute blow-drying, straightening and smoothing routine. I’ve gotten better over time about only going through what I call “the process” every two to three days, but during my self-conscious high school years I would wake at 5:30 every morning just to make time for the hellish blowouts. I’ve tried going Au natural, and while my hubby prefers the half-curly, slightly frizzy wave I have going on, it only takes about five minutes before I’m tugging at it and putting it into a messy ponytail. I’ve even tried journaling about my hair and listened to therapeutic songs like “I Am Not My Hair” by India Arie (for real) but to no avail. So, when I heard about the Keratin treatment I decided to take the plunge to see if I could get my life back after years of being a hair slave.
I didn’t make a big deal out of getting the treatment done at first because I was slightly embarrassed by how much money I had spent on something that would probably only last three to five months, but I thought I was going to “hair heaven” as the treatment promised to “eliminate up to 95% of frizz and curl and instantly add amazing shine, silkiness and condition to the hair” all without undergoing a chemical process. The only downside (besides the price) is that you must wait three days before you can wash or basically touch your hair. This includes, no rain, no sweat, no sunglasses on the head, or putting hair behind your ears. Yes, that was like going through “hair hell” but because the hair is so silky and smooth for those three days, it actually didn’t bother me too much. After my first wash I have to say I was a big underwhelmed (but keep reading). My drying time went from forty to twenty minutes, which was great, but not exactly the heaven I was hoping for as it still required a lot of straightening. I went back to having hair guilt, chalked it up to just having bad hair genes and went on with my business until going in for my routine trim last week. My hair dresser was shocked that I didn’t see more of a difference after having the treatment done and had the owner of the salon come take a look. He thought it should be more silky and smooth, too, and offered to redo the process the next day at no charge. Hallelujah!
So, last week I had the process redone (with no harm to my hair as it is a protein and not a chemical) and it turned out that the first time I had the treatment my cuticle was not opened enough to accept it. They discovered that my hair needed several shampoos before the cuticle would open properly. I again suffered through the three days of no washing or touching, but this time the results were SOO worth it! My hair looked like this after only 10 minutes of blow drying and a quick swipe of the straightener with NO products! Hallelujah times a hundred!
Can you sense my excitement?

(Are you wondering if there is a before picture?

Do you think I’d actually let someone see my like this again?!)
In the song, Miss Arie asks:
Does the way I wear my hair make me a better person?
Does the way I wear my hair make me a better friend?
Does the way I wear my hair determine my integrity?

And she answers:
I am not my hair
I am not this skin
I am not your expectations, no no
I am not my hair
I am not this skin
I am a soul that lives within

I, too, would like to say I am not my hair. I would like to say I am not defined by the car I drive, the clothes or size I wear, the whiteness of my teeth, the straightness of my hair,_________ fill in the blank. I would like to say I don’t belive that my worth is determined by physical attributes, but I, like many women, struggle with these things on a daily basis.

I may not have the answers to the constant, complex war we wage with ourselves, but, I do know three simple things:
1. What really matters most is what’s on the inside; the soul that lives within.
2. I want to raise my daughter to believe that she is defined by this inner soul, and not her physical qualities.
3. Money can’t buy happiness (and the Countess from Real Housewives of New York taught me that “money can’t buy ya cla-hass,” either).

I also know that if momma’s hair ain’t happy, SHE AIN’T HAPPY.
So if money can buy beautiful, healthy hair free from the bondage of sweaty blow-outs, maybe it really is worth it.

Thank you High Tech Design and Day Spa for this Holy Hair Miracle!

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