mallowmar (runaway___) wrote in get_up_dread_up,

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I really appreciate all the help you guys gave me when I posted last, and I've read through all of the memories, and I decided that I wanted dreads. I don't want to deal with my hair having a mind of its own, and I really really don't want to deal with how people see me. Not anymore, anyway. I started making a plan, and got a friend to get on board with me. It was all set.

Until my mother put her foot down.

I don't like to complain about my mom too much. She's a nice lady, really. She lets me out of the house whenever I want, she parties with me, she gives me money if I need it. She doesn't even mind that I'm 17 and I'm more independent from her than my (way) older sisters were when they went to college. She doesn't care what I do to my ears anymore. There was only one thing she didn't want me to do: facial piercings. But now there's two. Dreads.

I think it's funny how moms only don't let you do things that you really want to do. I don't think I can explain to her how badly I want this, and I don't have it in me right now to fight with her. I tried to state my argument when the issue first came up, saying how I'll leave my bangs out and how it won't be a big deal and how they don't smell and you can still wash them, but somehow my argument got shot down before it even came out of my mouth. The way she said it, I'm pretty sure that she didn't want to say anything else on the subject.

I don't know how to tell her that I hate who I've become, and how I'm so sick of being the vain person that I am. I don't want to spend an hour and a half to two hours washing and drying and straightening my hair anymore. I'm sick of the image I convey; this meticulous, narcissistic, obsessive compulsive maniac who has to look perfect before she leaves the house. I just want to walk out of the house and now worry about the weather, getting my hair wet, or the humidity. I could just see my mother's reaction when I told her that; she'd feel my forehead and send me to my psychologist, who'd shake some pills in my hand and send me on my merry little way.

I'm tired of being that person. I want to be who I am inside on the outside. I don't really know why I rambled about this for so long, it's just bothering me so much. I don't expect advice or anything, just someone please tell me that I'm not completely insane?
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