I Love My Hair

If you are a black female, you know the struggle of your life will ultimately be your hair. Lets just face it. Some of us have been blessed with long locks that flow with the wind and that I give side eye to in envy of your ability to get a brush through it. While others, such as myself, have been blessed with the hair that our mothers would just shake their heads at as we were told to sit down between her legs as she attempted to tame our wild tresses. Equipped with a comb, brush, grease (ROYAL CROWN SHOUT OUT), that cup of water, and gel to get those “edges laid” and an array of colorful bows. As we got older, some of our moms gave up taming those tresses and put us in the hands of that beautician with that “creamy crack” or relaxer. If your mom was like my mom.. .you were tricked.. you were told “You won’t have to get that hot comb anymore” and you ran to that beauticians chair like you were running in a triathlon because you thought your ear would never get burned again. You realized quickly that was a lie and for a few minutes of pain, your hair was so straight you could use it as a ruler on your geometry test. Our moms were happy… and we were happy..
Through my hair journey from child to adult, I have tried multiple styles for my hair. Braids, weave,long weave, short weave, long braids, short braids, half sew-ins, full sew ins,a bob, a curl, a bob with a curl.. EVERYTHING. I realized quickly that everybody had an idea of what they wanted my hair to look like, but never asked me how I felt about my hair.
My hair and I have a love hate relationship. It has taken be 23 years, but I can truly say that I am starting to love it and accept it. I have been looking at different stories of girls who are “going natural” and posting these photos of their hair journey from creamy crack has to be ruler straight addiction to crack is whack give me my natural hair back, and it is beautiful! These girls have broken these societal chains and have gone back to their roots (for real).
I’m one year sober from using the creamy crack. This is the first time in my life that I have been truly happy with the way my hair looks and feels. I realize that this is apart of self growth and learning to accept my inner beauty.
I know some of you are reading this and thinking… “its just hair” or “some people don’t have hair at all”, but you have to realize its not just about hair, its about loving you and the skin that you are in. Once we learn to accept ourselves and love ourselves, we can be a better person to other people.

So with that I will leave you with this jam:


Thoughts at 1 AM

As I’ve grown up, I realized that I seek a lot of attention. It’s not necessarily in a bad way but not necessarily in a good way either…

At a young age, I had to realize that life was not all peaches and cream. The death of my father came at a gradual shock for me.

I lived in my own sense of denial for the longest time. I would hear/read things about children growing up in single parent homes, the rapid rate of black kids growing up without fathers, and think to myself, how I felt so bad for those children.. And not once examining myself and realizing that those statistics were talking about me.

I contribute that to a few things:
1. Private School- all of my life I’ve gone to a private school. I never had a choice into where I wanted to go to school. Private School gave me a false sense of reality, because if you go to Private School and you’re not there on scholarship.. Your parents must be making some big bucks, right?!

2. My mom is a “Dr.”- My mom is a pharmacist. She received her PharmD when I was in the 3rd grade. She worked very hard to receive this title and in high school I worked very hard to try to make it known that you don’t have to feel sorry for me because I don’t have a dad.. Because my mom makes that money! Enough for my mom, my dad.. And your mom and dad too……. (Right)

3. I was told to keep home matters and home and not talk to anyone about issues at home- This was very difficult for me. After my dad died, my mom got very sick with lupus. She struggled with the disease into my college years. She receive a kidney my sophomore summer of college. However, all throughout grade school, my mom was in and out of the hospital. At times, she was so sick, I wasn’t sure if she would make it. My grandparents and aunts and uncles would help out in situations when she was in the hospital. They even told me not to tell anyone about our situation. So I just pretended everything was perfect but on the inside I was literally bursting at the seams. I wanted to tell anyone that would listen my story.. However, I couldn’t because I would fear getting in trouble.

My grades suffered. I didn’t have a lot of motivation. I tried to cover up these issues by making situations funny. I only however made myself into a joke.

I was never the skinniest or the prettiest. I had very very low self esteem. I was constantly picked on for the way I looked/talked/ dressed etc. I am still haunted by it everyday. I tried to deflect the way I felt about my image, by making jokes about it before anyone else could.. I guess that’s pretty common. I also tried so hard to get people to like me.. I would lower myself and become a “doormat.”

Having people like me, “be my friend” became my only goal. It’s something I still struggle with today. I have done things that I knew were not right or fair but agreed or let it happen, because I didn’t want to make the other person mad. I was amazed and truly am amazed how much I have allowed myself to be taken advantage of… But I didn’t have the courage to stand up to them.

Being this way has caused a lot of heartbreak. I have problems with trust, because it’s so easily been taken from me, because I have allowed it. For some reason I feel as though the person should know how they are treating me and realize its wrong.. But that has not happened yet…… Soooo I have to realize I need to stand up for myself.

I struggle with being abandoned. I am so afraid that I will be left in a relationship, that I feel as though I smother them.. And they end up breaking free..

I write this because these are my thoughts. I know that I am not perfect. I was not made to be perfect. I grew up thinking that I had to fake it until I made it.

I have made so many mistakes. Things that I can kick myself for doing/saying/thinking… But it’s all apart of growth.

I think it’s important and necessary to examine yourself. Self reflection is a powerful tool and something I feel we all forget to do.

I write this as an apology, a few words of encouragement, a thank you, a wish, a promise.

I am not a finished product, but realizing this is the first step of being a better person. Knowing where I have come from will help me better my future.