Just Show Them.

In one of my previous posts I alluded to my mother's notion that hair doesn't grow after a certain age. Every female in my immediate family (including yours truly) is stubborn, so why did I take it upon myself to have a pointless debate with my mother over the hair on my head? Why did I attempt to educate the wrong and strong on the science of hair care? Never again.

She can roll her eyes at my product reserve, continue to point out the time I spend on my hair on wash days and keep talking that old school smack. I'm over it. I don't need a cheerleader or her approval.

My hair is in protective styles 98% of the time. Only I'll know how many inches I've gained, how much the breakage has decreased, how much stronger and thicker it has gotten and the reduction in split ends.

I'm going to hush. I realize the mere mention of hair brings about diarrhea of the mouth for me. Anyone who isn't a hair care enthusiast may understandably get annoyed, so I'm just going to let the progress speak for itself. Rant over.