you have been locked up in a tower for as long as you can remember, your caregiver, which you call mother, raising you and keeping you in the tower. Your hair was long enough to reach the bottom of the tower, and is how mother got in, by climbing your hair. As she brushed your hair she sighed

Mother: “oh how I wish you could have been a girl.. see how beautiful you’d look? Oh the dresses I’d buy you..”