I’ll start this off by saying I have always dreaded taking care of my hair. I vaguely remember being a tween and shyly creeping up to my mom’s bedroom to ask her to brush the knots out of my thick locks, and her disappointedly agreeing because she knew that if I made an attempt I would somehow make it worse. I even tricked my dad into buying a Hannah Montana wig, because well, her hair seemed “better” than mine. (Safe to say that style didn’t end up working out.) I also often chopped my own hair when it got too long and hid behind messy pony-tails and knit beanies from Limited Too. 

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