I am that person who gets her husband to cut her hair…

This is a kind of lament, whine, rant, call it what you will post. 

I have long, thick, wavy (ok it tends to frizz a lot) hair. I have a lot of hair. It’s a blessing and a curse. It grows fast and is hard to manage. It doesn’t like being cut in layers (it makes my head look like a gingery brown triangle when that happens, I have learned from experience) and it’s a nightmare to do anything with other than wash, put in a bun or pony tail or leave it down. If I leave it down, it frizzes and gets in my way (I work with children. Paint, snot, rice cakes, and bubble mix frequently occur in my life, long hair and those don’t mix) and it gets really knotted and is a pain to brush. 

I also have psoriasis. It’s mostly on my scalp and behind my ears and sometimes creeps down to my neck. I have had it for as long as I can remember, and it is kept at bay using special shampoos, managing certain things in my diet, and occasionally prescribed medication from my doctor. 

My scalp is scaly and dry, and I have what are called ares of plaque, where the psoriasis builds up. 

I don’t go to the hairdresser. I haven’t been to the hairdresser in nearly 6 years. 

By rights, of course, my hair should be down to my ankles, then?

Nope, it’s not. 


Because every two months or so, I wash it (I wash it more often than that, I promise, hear me out) and then I hunt down the husband and I hand him some hair cutting scissors and he cuts two or so inches off the bottom of my hair, and every few weeks I trim my own fringe. 

I loathe going to the hairdresser. 

My hair does not style. It doesn’t like layers, it doesn’t like being straightened. It can be cut, blow dried and calmed, but that only lasts a few days, and then it’s back to it’s wild self. I simply cannot be bothered to spend hours straightening it, myself, and in fact I don’t even own a hair dryer. I don’t have the time or capacity it takes to tame my hair. 

I object to spending a fortune to have someone chop a few inches off my hair, and tell me I need to get layers, or highlights or whatever the current trend is that would make me look like a demented ginger badger…

Also, the psoriasis makes certain hairdressers uncomfortable. The last salon I went to, the person washing my hair took one look at my scalp and then put gloves on, and made all sorts of weird faces when they touched my hair. I did clearly explain to them what it was, that it wasn’t infectious or contagious, but they made me feel like I had leprosy. I didn’t tip them, and I didn’t go back.

I could have my hair cut short. But it grows so fast I would need to get it cut and styled every 4-6 weeks, and I live in an area where hair salons are not cheap. 

So, my poor long suffering husband, wields the scissors, cuts a few inches and I carry on. I don’t particularly care, because I don’t wear my hair down often, and when I do, it’s not really possibly to tell it has not been cut by someone who knows what they are doing. He actually makes a pretty good job of it, and I don’t have to pay him…

One day, I will pluck up the courage to find someone professional to cut my hair, but for know, I am that person who has her husband cut her hair. Oh the shame…

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  1. The last time I went to the hairdressers was when I was pregnant with my youngest. She is 10 now. lol I don’t want to pay someone to do something I can do myself at home. I usually wear my hair up in a ponytail and have perfected the art of cutting it myself.
    Kim Carberry recently posted…A new routine…. #WotW

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