When the wind blows....

I have been hair obsessed for as long as I can remember.   After really diving into my past, there are a few key contributors I believe to have caused me to resort to hair pulling.  I am not trying to shift blame, but more or less discussing things in my life I think have played in a role in my hair obsession & to give insight on my life.

For this post, I can thank my fabulous brothers.  I have two brothers.  My oldest brother is 9 years older than me, and my second brother is 5 years older.  Growing up, I was always very close with my oldest brother and had a more love/hate relationship with the middle one as we were closer in age & I probably annoyed the shit out of him.

My brothers & I - Late 1986

I was fortunate enough to grow up in a household where there was no shortage of humour.  The majority of our humour stems from my mom, and has trickled down onto her children.  My brothers are seriously two of the funniest people I know, and despite the permanent damage they have caused their little sister, I can't imagine having grown up in a house without the amount of laughter we had. 

As the youngest child & the only girl, I got the brunt of most of the ongoing, cruel jokes in our household.  Some have stuck with me, others I find equally hilarious to look back on, and kind of wish there was someone younger than me so I could have equally punished them. 

I once had a book with two characters named "Sarah & Thomas", and in one of them, they 'discover' each others bodies.  Frankly, it was completely inappropriate.  In it they referred to Thomas as having a penis and Sarah as having a slit.  When does SLIT become the appropriate term for vagina? Anyways, my brothers used to play this horrible joke on 5 year old me, where they said they would call the slit doctor & have him come sew up my slit.  My oldest brother would pick up the phone and dial 555-SLIT.  He would say it & dial it very slowly ..  5   5   5   S   L    I    T.  I would scream & throw a tantrum and my brothers would be dying laughing.  I can almost guarantee knowing my mom now, she was dying laughing too but through her laughter trying to make them stop  Thankfully this cruel joke didn't cause me to have any form of slit fears, but just wanted to paint a picture of the kind of hilarious, yet mean, environment my brothers raised me in.

5   5   5   S   L   I   T

The one relating to my trich, although at the time would have seemed quite harmless, I believe this was a catalyst for my self-conscious/obsessive behaviour relating to my hair.  I am going to thank my oldest brother for this one, as I can only imagine him being the one to have created this lovely song, that throughout my child was sung to me over and over, and to this day, still gets sung to me, oddly enough usually when I bring up my trich.

So here they are...the 3 worst lines in the world, sung to a lovely, catchy melody, that rings through everyone in my families head when we think about my hair.

*When the wind blows, when the wind blows, sara's hair doesn't move at all*