You curly guys rock!
Reading all these posts makes me wish we all went to school together.
My hair had to do with a majority of my childhood/teenage bad memories.
From the time I was 4 I can remember some stupid comment that was said about my super curly hair. The first vivid one I remember was when I was 4 or 5 and I ran out to get the mail when the mailman pulled up and started making fun of my hair from the truck.
In every grade I can remember walking down a hallway/bus/grocery store (anywhere for that matter) and having someone (even adults) or a group of kids shouting out bush, fro, frizzhead, etc.
The worst time I had was in 7th grade. My parents were just divorced and my dad moved my sister and I to Pennsylvania. I didn't know anyone, hated my aunt and my sister (who was a year older) was the only friend I had for a long time.
Every day I would dread walking to the bus stop because I knew it would be the beginning of another miserable day. It would start with a couple boys at the stop who somehow always found something to say or snicker about. Once the bus pulled up I'd get scared and prepare myself to hunt for a seat within the first few rows because I knew if I went more than 5 rows back it would be torture for the next 45 minutes. I came up with this ritual that if I saw this old sign of a frog that hung on the side of a barn we passed then I would have a good day. If I ever missed it I would be paraniod until coming home.
The day came when I couldn't find a seat on the bus and ended up almost at the back. The entire ride was spent being made fun of by about 15 kids and of course I missed the sign because I wouldn't look up. I got off at school crying and my sister searched for me. She saw me and asked me what happened, I told her and we went straight to the asst. principal. My sister (who was about 13 at the time) pretty much yelled at her to do something about it, which nothing was.
After that miserable year we came back to colorado to live with our mom (we loved our dad dearly, but my sister and I couldn't take our aunt, those kids and all kinds of other crap that happened).
The teasing never stopped, but I could handle it much better. I got my first job at a restaurant and, of course, had to deal with this jerk cook (who was like 31) who would yell out "We're gonna have a bush fire" or "tumbleweed!". He tried to get me fired because I told him to F-off every time but my bosses knew I was a hard worker and that he teased me constantly.
But many good things have come about because of my hair and I embrace it now. Mainly because no matter what I knew my mom always tried to help me get through it. After starting the CG routine last october my hair has looked better then ever (I'm 26 now). My mom saw it and said she couldn't believe how well the routine worked. She said she wished she knew about it when I was a kid so she could help me care for it. My best friend, who is a cosmetologist and has always loved/envied my hair (as she always says), now recommends the technique to all her curly clients and has had her name referred to tons more curly haired people because of the results.
Then there is my husband, Chris. Though I didn't know he would become my husband, I'll never forget one of the first things he said to me. We met at a club (my hair was pulled back of course) and we danced together. We left in seperate cars and I pulled down my hair to let my head breathe when he ran back to the car and asked if I'd like to go get something to eat. I was paranoid he'd never talk to me again because he saw my "real" hair. Well, we talked on the phone a few days later and he said (which I never, ever thought I'd hear) "You have beautiful hair."
From that moment on I had no inhibitions to falling in love with him or worry about him making fun of me for it or wanting me to change it.
I think he loves my curly hair more than me at times.
But what matters most is now I love my hair and would never do anything to change it.