As I slurped my tea and crunched my frangipane I pointed out another self revelation to my patient Mother.

‘Lesbians can’t just go to the hairdressers and have a trim.’ I revealed.

‘How do you mean love?’

‘Our hair goes on a journey of self discovery all on it’s own. It has to fight for it’s place in society with much more vigour than a bob or a perm does.’

‘You’ve got lovely hair love.’

‘Thank you Mum, but the point I’m trying to make is that my hair has always had a mind of it’s own, it’s always been different to everyone else’s, it’s never quite fitted in, it continues to draw attention and seek daily approval to this day, it’s exhausting.’

‘Are you saying you’ve got lesbian hair?’

‘It looks like it, and I’ve heard lesbian hair is completely knackering at times, I regularly wake up myself thinking what is it going to do today? 

Sometimes I haven’t even got the energy to wash, wax and scrunch. I just hide it under a beanie and learn to live with the guilt.’

‘You might be right.’ She crunched. ‘I’ve never lost you in a crowd and you’ve always been easy to find in the sales. I think I might have lesbian hair too.’

‘You’ve definitely got lesbian hair Mum, the only difference is this….’

‘I’ve permed mine, coloured, it and shaved it. I’ve worn it long, wavy and cropped, but you’ve managed to have the same style since you were thirteen.’

‘In fact Mum, I’ve just realised there are 2 things in my life I’ve never had and yet most people take for granted.’

‘What’s that my love? She asked.

‘Nits and a decent fringe.’