I have been obsessed with picking my split ends since I was 10-11 years old. I have always had bad hair but in the early 80's, it was in fashion to wear hair long with big bangs. I loved the multi-splitters where a strand has 5+ peelies that pull away from the hair shaft at the end (oh boy! which two peelies do I grab with my fingernails and peel apart all the way up the shaft! The satisfaction almost feels like a compulsive perversion. By high school, I was fully into the white dots that when you pulled on the end, it was as if you could hear a "bink!" sound effect. Wherever I drove and parked, I would maximize having the front of the car facing the sun so I could see the white dots stand out and go after them one by one. It was excrutiating to ever reach a stopping point. More remarkable was the peace and comfort it gave me to take another 5 min time out in my day for "quality time between my dry hair and myself." I had a girlfriend in high school who insisted on growing her thick hair down to her waist. It was a bit puffy toward the ends and that's where I couldn't help seeing white dots from the other side of a table, or just sitting next to her in a car. I would say to her, "oh! I see a 5-splitter, don't move!" ... as I would reach over to grab it while asking "please let me peel it," she would get annoyed and say no way. It would compel me to literally beg to peel at least 3 of her split ends - WTF? I feel like this has to be a true sickness but god, does it pacify me! I have dropped the habit in the past few years because I keep my hair at shoulder length and it's too hard to pull a cluster of hair in front of my face to look for those fabulous and irresistible white dots!