Personal Narrative: My Hairtyle

There are so many different hairstyles from different places and cultures it makes my story seem insignificant. I don’t care if I don’t get my point across or no-one agrees with it. As long as I tell the story to anyone who will listen. Some backstory you might want to know: I come from a fairly large family; a family that have very strong opinions and don’t back down. Although, this story isn’t about my family, even if it seems like it is. Don’t focus on the non-essentials. This particular story is about me wanting bangs, and my stance on modern photog- raphy. My grandparents had left on a mission to Holland, they had been there for about a year. My mom’s side of the family has some deep roots in Holland. My grandma and grandpa are both Dutch, they moved to America and never really touched base with their heritage. So when my mom got a …show more content…
I was brushing my brownish-blonde hair, I took a sizeable chunk of the hair at the front of my head. I brushed down to the ends then slowly started to spin it upwards towards the crown of my head. After it was all rolled up I tried to pull the brush down through my hair. Needless to say, it did not work out. The brush immediately got caught, even when I yanked as hard as I dared, it didn’t budge.
I knew that my only choices were either telling my dad what happened, or figuring it out myself. The intelligence of my choice was debatable. I knew in my mom’s make-up box there were a pair of small, curved scissors as I had seen her use them to trim her eyebrows countless times. So me—being the smart child that I was—decided to dig out the small scissors and clip the hair along the edge of the brush. After I snipped the last few strands, I put the brush on the counter top and looked in the mirror. It was a little lopsided and I was missing a chunk on the left side of my head, but it wasn’t