The messy truth

Her hair.

It’s a damned mess most of the time.

Frizzy, fly away, multiple lengths of strands going this way and that.

Sometimes in the morning she has this mass on the back that is so teased it looks like she’s headed to an 80’s revival playdate.

Her preferred style? Messy, and in her face.

About a year ago, SHE decided.

“No more munitos.”

Munitos are the Cuban slang for rubber bands, or tie backs, or just about any hair clippie or accessory. Doesn’t matter, none of those things would be on her head or in her hair, thank you very much.

And we battled at first.

Things got ugly, tears were shed, mommy and daughter both had tantrums over this issue.

“Pleeeease?”

A few times, yes.

“I’ll give you ______________, if you wear a ponytail.”

No. Not anymore.

Even when we are having a quiet moment and I do that thing where I play with her hair and gently tuck some strands behind her ears, she pulls it back out and thrusts it aggressively in her face.

Explanations?

Yes, I’ve given a few.

“Zoey, you have the most beautiful face but I cannot see it with your hair in your face.”

Nope.

“Zoey, all the other girls wear munitos in their hair.”

Answer: “yes, and I do not.”

“Zoey, if you would wear munitos your hair would not be so tangled all the time and it wouldn’t hurt when I brush it.”

Nope.

So tonight when going through my photos, and editing a few, I noticed something funny.

I love her messy hair. I’ve taken dozens of photos of it, backlit and glorious.

I thought I wanted her to put it in little sweet pigtails (and I do still!), but that wouldn’t be the truth of her.

And turns out her messy is my beautiful afterall.