Struggles Only The Curly-Haired Understand

I have long red curly hair.  It's a natural curl which means it's a disaster.  I wear it long because the weight keeps the curls heavy enough to not float up and away like I've been struck by lightning.

That's me.  I often get complimented on my hair, "Oh I love your hair! It's all natural? Wow!"  It makes me cringe because people just don't get it.

Washing my hair is a chore and I'd rather scrub the toilets, but then they both have to be done eventually.

It's a two hour process and I have to do a timed deep-condition every time I wash it.  Let's just say I wear a lot of hats...

You know that scene in Princess Diaries where the guy breaks the brush in her hair?  I've done that.  Too many times to count.

When I was young and dating, for some reason guys always wanted to put their fingers in my hair.  That's like a rubbing a cat the wrong way.  Two hours of careful washing and controlling and now I look like Troy Palomalu which means I'll have to start all over.

I have trouble rolling over in bed because I lay on it, or my husband lays on it, or the cat is hung up in it...

Every sharp edge or hook is a torture tactic because my hair gets caught like barbed wire and usually stays attached to said object while I'm left rubbing my sore head.

The vacuumed is clogged with it.

Yardwork requires a pet monkey to pick leaves and sticks out of it when I'm done.  The year-round tinsel in the trees?  My hair.

It's wiry and coarse.  Forget ever having bangs.  You can straighten them, but as soon as humidity hits them, they bounce in weird directions.  This is a wig, it gives unrealistic expectations to people with curly hair, because this may be a new trendy look, but it's not for those of us who actually have curly hair.

It's. Not. Real.

Pushing sunglasses on top of your head? Nope.  Those nose pieces aren't coming out.  I've stood in public struggling to get the now dangling glasses out of my hair while people look on in confusion.

It's everywhere too.  I lose a hair and it ends up in the weirdest places.  Inside my husbands socks (which he hates), meals, when I was in college a guy in a class said he found one of my hairs in his checkbook.  Seems suspicious to some, but we did use the same laundry room...

Anyone remember Captain Caveman?

This is reality.  The things he pulled from his hair?  For me it's lost earrings, bobby pins, food, sunglasses nose pieces, there's probably a lost pet in there somewhere, and quite frankly, I can never find the phone....

On a windy day, it'll catch my hair like a sail and nearly pull me off my feet.

This year I tried to color my grey.  I dyed my hair six times with zero result.  Hair same color, grey still there.  It's like trying to dye steel wool.

Yes, thank you for the compliment, but no, you don't really wish you had my hair!