I wrote this poem as an apology to my long-suffering hair.
It’s endured much abuse over the last 30 years or so (since I discovered my first grey at 19).
Highlights, straighteners, perms, bleach, ammonia, tongs, heated rollers, hair stripper – to name a few of the torture methods.
I have fine hair, so when I stepped up my highlighting routine to cover the grey, every five weeks, my poor hair gave up the ghost and snapped.
I’ve previously blogged here about when my hair started to fall out, aged 30, and how even then I returned to abusing my hair.
Years on, now with healthy, shiny locks, I feel I owe my hair an apology for how it was mistreated, and a thank you for tolerating so much, and for rewarding me with my current hair.
This blog site is called ‘Shiny Happy Silver’ and that’s what I have!
I hope you enjoy reading the poem. Have you also abused your hair? Leave your thoughts and experiences in the comments.
Poem: My hair, dyed
I’m so sorry that I made you snap,
When you stuck by me through thick and thin.
Even after the highlighting cap,
You still took it all on the chin.
Bleach, ammonia, GHDs,
Crank up the heat, 220 degrees.
Hair stripper, perms, tongs and crimpers
Ignoring all your cries and whimpers.
Stressed, depressed, my scalp it crumbled,
Clumps of lifeless, fried hair tumbled.
The doctor prescribed a new shampoo,
“Anna, no more hair dye for you.”
It took a while, but you returned,
Still, vital lessons were not learned.
Root touch ups resumed – scalp burning,
The colour wheel kept on turning.
Split ends, frizz, brittle, breaking.
A problem of my own making.
Over processed, under nourished,
Nothing grown here ever flourished.
Time to repair the wear and tear
Inflicted on you, dearest hair.
I ditched the dye, laid off the heat
That had sent you into retreat.
You rewarded me with silver gloss,
A new lease of life, instead of loss.