I had a rather jarring moment today that brought back some bad memories....
I have long hair. I have for most of my adult life, but I've had a weird thing about brushes. I can go without one and simply use a wide-toothed comb with no trouble. Well, today I did decide to run a brush through my hair to smooth it out for a ponytail. It had a bit of hair in it, so I decided to remove it.
I sat and stared at the wad of hair in my hands for a good 10 minutes. Or maybe it was less time, but it felt like a small eternity. The reason for my zoned-out stupor?
It looked just like the wads of hair I held in my hands after NAM would pull my hair forcefully while shaking and slapping me. I actually used to collect this brutal evidence of her violent cruelty. Of course I had to hide it from anyone else because to show anyone would be an acknowledgement of her actions, and we certainly couldn't have that.
Others with this experience might prefer to keep their hair short to avoid seeing these bundles of hair from a brush, but I refuse to do so. I was only allowed to have long hair after I got to be older than 10 because NAM had refused to let me grow it out. And it's not like she took us to the salon for regular trims either. She cut our hair herself. And by "cut," I mean "massacred."
Cleaning out a brush all these years later....the memories can come back and slap you in the face when you least expect them.
And the other one that just hit me as I was writing this?
She would brag about doing it.