Supplement for the Tufts application! I appreciate any comments, especially on content!
Like Frieda from Charlie Brown, I have naturally curly hair. However, while Frieda is extremely proud of her naturally curly hair, mine is often the bane of my existence. It's wild and crazy, defies gravity, and refuses to behave if there's even the slightest bit of humidity. All through sixth, seventh, eighth, and ninth grade, I took a straightener to my hair every morning, flattening and flattening until I saw smoke. I wanted a perfect waterfall of hair to come cascading past my shoulders, shiny and reflective. However, my hair just wouldn't cooperate. No matter how hard I tried and how much heat I applied, I only got split ends and untamable frizz. Straight hair wasn't me; being agreeable and falling into line wasn't me. Around the same time I embraced and began to refine my argumentative and feisty personality, I embraced and grew to love my curls. It's big and crazy; it's free and loose. I love that it's different, and I especially love the extra sleep I get not waking up early every morning to straighten it. For the past two years, my flat iron has been hibernating in a drawer. I've found my inner Frieda, and wear my naturally curly hair proudly.
