Say Hello To My Hair Rival.

My mum and I have always had a contest between who's hair is longer. Even when I was 13 and had the Meg Ryan pixie hair style, she would say "Ha-ha my hair is longer than yours!" Ever since then, it's been a silent competition between us. Hair rivals for life.

Mums hair has always been around 22 inches long. So has mine. I'll wake up one day and realize that I have an extra two or three inches over her, but were always roughly the same length.

When mum was having an identity crisis, the hair got it. She walked out of her bathroom with jet black hair. In all honestly, it looked terrible - like a bad wig. She knew what an effort it would be to get rid of it so she stuck with it for two whole years. Her beautiful blonde hair was drowning in all that motor oil coloured hairdye. I was over the moon when she finally admitted it was time to get rid of it. After a month of slowly bleaching it down she got impatient and chopped it all off to her shoulders. It didn't take long for me to get it white blonde after that.

A few months later I had decided that I wanted to lighten my hair. A distracted and careless hairdresser left the bleach on my hair too long and melted half of my length off. I went from having beautiful one length all the way down to my butt, to having fried straggly bits and the majority of my hair sitting just past my shoulders. I did the only thing I could do. I cut it off. My mums hair was at her shoulders, mine was two inches longer and the race was on again. I must have lived in hair masks for two months just to keep what little head start I had.

Mum has always had trouble growing her hair. When she was younger she endured five years of chemotherapy on and off for a cancer that was just as, if not more stubborn than getting rid of her black hairdye. A month ago she looked at me, turned around, tugged at the longest piece of her hair and said "Look how long it is. Look at the length." I smirked as I turned around. I didn't even have to tug at my hair or tilt my head back when I said "Look how long mine is."

When I told her that I had decided to go back to blonde, the colour drained from her face. "But your hair is finally thick, almost all one length and beautifully healthy. It looks like were gonna need to buy you some extensions." She joked. We have always had a personal joke that extensions were invented for women who bleached their hair from black to blonde. After many bad experiences we both got into the frame of mind that you can't go from dark to light without sacrificing your length or thickness to the hair God's.

When I started bleaching my hair from black to blonde a month ago it was 25 inches long at it's longest point. I had three layers of length. My top layer was 22 inches, my middle layer was around 24 inches and my longest layer was just over 25 inches long. I knew that when I started bleaching my hair, I'd lose some of the length and/or thickness but it was time to suck it up and take a gamble.

I'm proud to say that although I no longer hit the 25 inch mark, I've managed to keep my length at 24 inches at it's longest point. That's pretty amazing to me. I was scared that I'd have shoulder length hair by the time I got to this stage of blonde. I guess one inch of length wont really make a difference in the long run.

My mum is so amazed that I've kept the length. I kinda think she's jealous, not that she would ever admit it.

My suspicions were confirmed today when I jumped on Ebay. I laughed as quietly as I could when I seen that she had bought a full head of 26 inch extensions in her shade of platinum blonde.

Knowing her, she is planning to casually come out of her room one morning with super long hair (even longer than mine) and say "I told you my hair is longer than yours."

Her surprise plan has failed, but I wont say anything if you don't.

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