Sunday, February 17, 2008

Week 4 - First lesson of self acceptance

I've gotten used to my lil twists thus far. Can't really call them dreads, because they still have the ability to unravel if/when I wash my hair. Yes, I said "when."

I'm sorry reader, I washed my hair two weeks ago and did not inform you, nor did I take pictures. I've been a little busy.

I plan on washing my hair again this upcoming week, however, and I will show you the whole process. I promise. As for my twists, I have been wearing them in a little updo. I think it's sooo cute. I get a lot of compliments on it too. What do you think?




The pictures are a little dark, but I hope you can get the gist.

I'm very thankful that I stayed strong and kept my hair natural for two years before I started these locs. Sometimes I think to myself that I will miss my hair being this length once it starts to grow out.

The funny thing is that my hair has a mind of its own. Such a cliche, I know...but it does. Some days I wake up and it is going in the right direction and other days, it's going every which way.

When I first got my hair palm rolled, I must admit that I was so self conscious. I wore a scarf every day. One day I was about to go out on a little date or something...I don't know. Whatever the occasion, I was dressed nicely and feeling confident. I looked in the mirror, without my usual scarf and/or hat and said to myself "I look good!" and with this confidence (and I mean real confidence, not just saying "I look good") came the compliments and acknowledgement from my friends and family. The funny thing is that, I didn't need those compliments. It just took for me to accept my look first. As soon as I became comfortable and assured, I became more beautiful to myself...and in result to being beautiful to myself, I became beautiful to those around me. It just took me longer than I expected to see my own beauty. I thought that I already had it in me. "Oh, I've worn my hair natural for years," I would say to people. "I've accepted my hair."

How arrogant of me. Let me be the first to admit what a hypocrite I was. I still have some issues, as do most (hell, all) Black people do with our hair in its natural state. I'm just blessed to be able to experience the process that it takes to expose my issues and eliminate them. It's kind of like acknowledging your illegitimate child. Article on that topic to follow ;- )

Anyway, I look at my nieces...who look just like me, mind you, and see how beautiful they are wearing their hair naturally. (And don't they know it too)


I would make excuses for them like, "oh, they're babies...they always look cute." As if that will fade once they reach my age, and they'll have to make up for it through perms, weaves, etc. But when I really think about it, I couldn't imagine telling them (at any age) to be something other than themselves. I couldn't imagine putting chemicals in their hair and watching it fall out like mine did so many years ago. I can still remember the look on my mother's face.
The things we do to our beautiful, Black children (sorry mom). It makes my stomach turn now to think about how insecure I felt about my own hair at such a young age. Or seeing classmates with hair breaking off, looking like chemotherapy patients at ages as young as five and six years old. We have a lot of growing to do as a people.


Back to the point...I want my nieces to be proud of everything they do and everything they are. And if I want that to be the case, I have to set a good example. And yes, that's pee pee in that potty! (Look at her, she's so proud!)



On that note, I'm going to wrap this one up by saying be proud of yourself in your undiluted glory...because if you're not, then you're rejecting the God who made you such a great person to begin with. Glad I could share my journey with you all. The next time you see me, I will have washed my hair again.

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