I was this kid. I've thick, wavy/curly coarse Celtic hair, it was long also, midway down my back. I would scream, refuse, have meltdowns. Constant battles with mum about it, of run and hide all sorts. (poor mum)
My mother through pure exhaustion one day when I was about 5 or 6, pulled it dry it into a low ponytail under the nape of my neck best she could and....cut it off with a guide elastic band halfway down the ponytail.
She released it and I had a chin length wavy/curly bob.
She then handed me a wide tooth comb and said, do it yourself then.
I cried but I then attempted to comb it myself. Through shocked tears I will add...but,
I did, and it was so much less painful as I wasn't pulling through lengths of thick curly/wavy locks, which was then pulling on my scalp.
I mean yeah she could have been nicer about it, but it was the 90's and she just couldn't cope anymore, and being a mum myself now, I look back and think she was just doing her best through exhaustion and fed up of battles and unhygienic hair.
She knew she couldn't negotiate with me, so she took it upon herself like some SAS secret mission to resolve it, and it did.
After a few weeks of me coming it myself and accepting it didn't hur as much, she then took me to the hairdresser to get it tidied up and styled properly when I was calmer and more accepting.
I'm not saying this is the best kindest plan, but it's a plan if you need one. 😳