I had my first press and curl at age eight. When I took a peek in the mirror at the new me, I was so disappointed that I did not resemble the Breck Girl in all the magazine ads. That may explain why some of the girls at my school looked shocked, shaking their heads, hoping I could have lived up to the Pantene-flowing-in-the-wind look I had so proclaimed I’d have.
Just 9 days ago, on April 10, my last lock fell. It was clearly time for a new hairstory in the making! To get a full buzz and see the hairs standing on top of my head like tweety bird, made me laugh. Then I noticed the shape of my head, which had never been seen, even at birth I had a head full of hair. The first comments received were very, very gracious and kind. I decided it would be okay to go out in public without the scarf, and did so.
Thus far, there have been smiles, stares, positive comments and questions from: “You have a beautiful shaped head”, “You wear it well”, “I wish I could be there to rub your head”, “You have a beautiful face”, “Think Hallie Berry, accentuate your positive features”, to “What happened?”, and little girls not liking it, because hair, especially long Pantene-flowing-in-the-wind hair, is a sign of real beauty in most parts of the world.
I am grateful to be in my ‘right mind, with a reasonable portion of health and strength’, able to praise God, in fellowship with others, take sweet communion in the morning, smile, swim without worrying that a lock will fall out, and getting dressed in the morning quicker! I feel the ultimate freedom I have always wondered and talked about. It will be fun to see how this hairstory unfolds 🙂 It’s all God and it’s all Good!
I am Not My Hair (including lyrics by India.Arie)
Little girl with the press and curl
Age eight I got a Jheri curl
Thirteen I got a relaxer
I was a source of so much laughter
At fifteen when it all broke off
Eighteen and went all natural
February two thousand and two
I went and did
What I had to do
Because it was time to change my life
To become the women that I am inside
Ninety-seven dreadlock all gone
I looked in the mirror
For the first time and saw that HEY….
I am not my hair
I am not this skin
I am not your expectations no no
I am not my hair
I am not this skin
I am a soul that lives within
Raymond
While I kinds miss my Afro…I don’t miss the 45-60 minutes getting it “right” every morning. And I don’t get in trouble for swiping my mothers scarf’s to help pat and perfect the shape LOL.
Estella
That hits the target dead ceernt! Great answer!
Judy Sundayo
i loved your blog and your poem, Temille~
last year i saw an old picture of my grandma, my father’s mother,
who was so exceptionally sweet and precious we called her “MomMEE.”
i had forgotten how she had worn her hair.
it was natural and braided in thick poofy braids, the cutest one on top, then folded neatly to the side of her head and pinned down.
funny. i had not remembered anything about her hair.
what i had remembered was the kindness, gentleness and quiet dignity of this preacher’s wife.
i know it’s quite natural (and healthy) for me to fall in love with every part of me. . . my hands that remind me of my mother’s hands, my fingernails, my ashy knees and my own poofy braids.
certainly i would miss them as i would miss a child who moves away from home. (empty-hair syndrome?)
but, i suspect that what others will love and miss about me will be who i was when i was with them, how i treated them, my kindness, gentleness and quiety dignity.
when it comes right down to it, all those characteristics of how we act in our relationships with others, not what we wear or how we fix ourselves, is what becomes the indelible spirit-photo imprinted in the minds of those who love us.
i celebrate with you, sis!