It's my hair, don't touch it.

I don't think anyone can accuse me of having the same hairstyle my entire life.

This preschool photo of me begs the question, Can your bangs ever be too short? Answer: Yes, oh, absolutely. I think my mom started to see hairline and finally quit trying to get them straight.

Then pretty much every other school picture I had taken showcased my latest home perm. My mother apparently couldn't accept the fact that I had naturally straight hair and tried to prove curly hair could be achieved. I was never happy about it.

Here as a high school junior. Still getting perms but apparently resigned to it and smiling.

Then as an adult, I finally became in charge. At times my hair is long and dark, short and blonde or medium and red. Or any combination of those. But always, always straight.

This past week, I fell victim to another family member's idea of what hairstyle would look good on me. Before I left for my son's soccer game, I let my daughter style my hair. Thankfully I was able to use the excuse of needing to wear a hat, so she let me lose two of the three pony tails. And all the hairbows. I'm old enough now not to lose my dignity at the hands of another. For now. When I'm in a nursing home and unable to defend myself, hopefully no one will take pictures.