My sister and I know of many people envious of our hair. They tell us, “Cut your hair, cut your hair”. Our golden brown locks fall straight like a waterfall down past our waists. Once ashy blonde, it turned a warm chocolate brown with age. When we stand in the sun, golden highlights beam brilliantly in the light. 

Our hair is a rope, thick and strong.  It is very stubborn, and doesn’t like to comply sometimes. It makes mornings very frustrating when we can’t get that ponytail perfectly polished. And trying to curl our hair is like an arm workout, so we just let it naturally lay straight. Straight and silky smooth.

It grows like a weed. We take frequent trips to the haircutters. Each time it’s at least five or so inches off. In the blink of an eye, it grows right back to where it was before. My sister doesn’t mind, she likes her hair super long.  I on the other hand, get so annoyed when my hair gets caught in my hockey breezers.

It’s kind of silly but our hair unites us. My sister sits on the floor and me on the couch, and we practice braiding for hours, switching roles when the other’s arms get tired. It’s the one trait that my sister and I share.  The one trait that makes us stand out.  Our golden brown locks that fall straight like a waterfall past our waists.