"I don't think that being a strong person is about ignoring your emotions and fighting your feelings. Putting on a brave face doesn't mean you're a brave person. That's why everybody in my life knows everything that I'm going through. I can't hide anything from them. People need to realise that being open isn't the same as being weak."

- Taylor Swift

Thursday, May 03, 2012


Now Playing: 'Never Fade Away' by Blue King Brown

I've found that the best way to deal with hang ups is to talk about it. It's how I got over depression and my weight problem. I'm not depressed, anymore, by the way, and my weight is steady at 52kg, which is a very reasonable weight for my age and height and ethnicity.

But I could not, for a long time, talk about my most recent problem. Because it's so ridiculously embarassing.

My most important motivation for abandoning shampoo was that I was moulting like a fucking chicken. I have a few theories - hormones, for one (as if I needed YET ANOTHER REASON to hate hormones), and stress; things have been a little tough lately, academically and socially and all of that. I also quit coffee cold turkey, and hair loss is supposed to be a side effect of caffeine withdrawal. 

When you're a straight-hair girl like me you don't entirely understand the huge fuss about frizz control and curl taming. I swear, 90% of the market is aimed at slathering as much (mineral, refined, hydrogenated, bad for you) oil onto your hair. And products for normal/oily hair are typically targeted at men - sexist, much? - and are about as mild and gentle as hydrochloric acid. They say that long hair clogs drains, but it was getting ridiculous.

Since stopping using shampoo, removing lots of elements of stress in my life (there's not much I can do about the hormones) the hair fall has reduced to a tenth of what it used to be. But there is a part at the back of my head where my hairline is a little more pronounced. It's not the most obvious thing in the world, but, ya know, I'm fairly self conscious about it. I've been playing with my hair a bit more, and strategically trying to cover it.

And I hate it. I feel like a thirteen year old again, fixing my fringe to sweep over big patches of red, angry acne.

Everyone thinks I'm mad for washing my hair with what's good for you - fresh botanicals, and mild, gentle, natural cleansers. Sure, not everyone washes their hair with apple sauce and oatmeal, and everyone claims that 'shampoo never killed nobody' (debateable), but just because everyone does it doesn't mean that something is okay or safe. Everyone used to smoke. It still kills you whether five or five million people smoke.

I don't want the nasty chemicals and harsh detergents, fragrances, dyes and preservatives anywhere near my body, much less my brain. I don't want to deal with yet another body hang up for ignoring the fact that I don't understand half of the shampoo bottle lable and don't want to understand the other half. I don't have to do what everyone else does, especially when I know it's harming me.

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