STOP SCRUNCHIE SHAMING!

I’ve had just about enough of this abuse.

I confess.

I’m here to out myself. but I’m still hiding behind dark shades (Chanel, of course).

I’m an addict.

I’ve tried to change.

I really have.

Not a day goes by that I don’t wish and hope and pray that I could be strong enough to resist temptation, but I’m weak.

I NEED it to tame my mane.

I mean, LOOK at me, would ya? My hair has a mind of its own.

When I was growing up in pink toe shoes and tutus and my hair was properly braided and beribboned every morning, how could I possibly foresee what the future would bring?

There was no crystal ball to warn me of the impending appearance of those colorful fabric-wrapped elastic bands that would be my crack.

I lack strength; I’m powerless.

(This is tougher than I thought it would be.)

I won’t — I can’t– hide my addiction one more minute.

The truth is that I wear a SCRUNCHIE every. single. day.

I can’t get through the day without one. Or two.

AND YES, I WEAR IT ON MY WRIST LIKE A BRACELET.

Just to keep it close and handy.

In fact, I have one on my wrist right now, AS I’M TYPING THIS POST.

Don’t even THINK about trying to wrestle it away from me.

Red or blue or purple; I carry extras in my handbags JUST IN CASE I LOSE ONE.

Us girls with SUPER curly and thick hair need a big fattie scrunchie to tame our wild beasty locks.

You know what?

I’ve had friends who’ve staged spontaneous interventions to help me confront my love for the scrunchie.

I’ve had friends pull them out of my hand and toss them in the trash.

Friends have gifted me all sorts of other hair bands and a variety of products to secure my crazy hair.

I’ve been bribed with lunch and unlimited wine if I don’t show up wearing a scrunchie.

“It ruins your outfit” they say.

“You look like a reject from the nineties”, they say.

Apparently, it’s embarrassing to be seen with a scrunchie-wearer.

I. DON’T. CARE. WHAT. ANYONE. THINKS.

I LOVE my scrunchies.

HAHAHA…the dreaded SIDE SCRUNCHIE!

No other form of securing my tresses will satisfy me:

A scrunchie doesn’t pull my hair

A scrunchie doesn’t create unsightly lines

A scrunchie doesn’t hurt at night when I have to pull my hair back or braid it so I won’t look like Medusa in the morning

And Cosmo says it’s a “must have” for oral sex, so it must be true

I feel so much better having confessed my secret addiction.

It’s a huge load off my chest. I feel light and free.

So deal with it, world.

From this day forward, I’m out, I’m loud, and I’m a PROUD scrunchie-wearer!

Just be glad it’s not a banana clip. Hee hee.

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