Hair

Looking in the mirror last night, I noticed strands of hair that glistened. I've had gray hairs for a while, but there are more of them now - they're shorter than the rest of my hair and stick up. Mostly near my part, they look like strands of spider silk in the light. There is still not a lot, but because they're silver and shine, I see them.

My hair is long - hip length at the moment, long enough to be a distinguishing characteristic - "the one with the really long hair" has been enough information to pick me out of crowd for most of my life. Now, "the white woman with the really long brown hair" is necessary. Lots of women have long hair in Island State, although most of the white women with long hair are blonde...I wonder why.

In the fourth grade, I had my really long hair cut short - chin length. I was a different person then - before boys really mattered or breasts got in the way. I was still shy and read a lot, but I was also very active, and could forget to be shy when having fun. I was thin and athletic - the fastest runner in my class that year. I was in all of the short dashes and relays for field day. I was the tallest girl in my class and represented us in the long jump. Then my body changed, running became uncomfortable, and my hair grew back out.

I've been thinking about cutting my hair short again. Some days, I almost convince myself to do it - an angled cut, shorter in the back with two longer strands in the front that complete the angle when tucked behind my ears, dyed a dark burgundy (a temp dye though - something that washes clean). Then I wake up the next morning, twist my hair up in a jumbled bun and forget about it.

I like the silver strands though. They give me hope that I will grow to be the witch I wanted to be as a child - sitting in a rocking chair on my front porch, muttering to the cat sleeping in my lap, and cursing the children who toss their frisbees on my roof, a shock of silver hair unfurling about by face.