No more. I gave up. I forget when. Maybe it was my first year of college. I just couldn’t keep up with it. I stopped curling it; it didn’t work anyway. The ozone layer gave a convincing plea, I abandoned the hairspray. I let my hair go free, knowing it looked bad. I was helpless against my fate.

When a few months had passed, I realized that my hair was actually getting some length. Astonishing! It could even be called “medium-length.” I was halfway to heaven!

But true enlightenment was still waiting for me.

I was at a folkdance class, when a girl came up to me and said, “I worship your hair.”

What?! I could barely respond. This girl was younger than me. She was not a pathetic loser. Her hair was golden blonde, thick, and in a ponytail. How could she admire my hair?

The mystery haunted me for days. Could she really mean that she admired my hair? All my previous experience rejected this Occam’s Razor explanation.

Could she really be sincere?

Her simple statement led me on a journey of exploration. In the new world opened to me, I discovered that there were more hair products than hairspray. Curls, under the right circumstances and care, could be shiny and bouncy.

Maybe Frieda, from Charlie Brown’s Peanuts had it right.

I always hated Frieda. Who was she kidding? The world is full of people who want to persecute the curly among us.

The women's version of Dress for Success says that you should contain your hair, that curly hair makes you look out of control. Who could deny it? Curls have a will of their own

I've always felt like my hair was an intelligent evil being that inhabited my head. Wherever I go, it sheds off curly spores. I am sure that it hopes to take over the world somehow.

Perhaps businesses have figured this out. That's the real reason they want compliant, contained hair.

They fear what they do not understand.

I read a book once, about a man in love with a curly-headed woman, Of Such Small Differences by Joanne Greenberg. He said that her hair sprung up out of her, like it was excited to be near her. He could understand that even her hair would be electrified by the amazing woman he was in love with.

Okay. Yeah. I'll be that.

Sexy.

Out of control.

Unmanageable.

Threatening.

Exciting.

Unpredictable.

This is us. We are the ones with The Hair. There is no use fighting it.