Looking at you now, I remember how we all grew together. The sad good part is that I was cutting you along the way only because I could not understand the measure and solidness of you. I remember how mom used to cut you off and turned you in to curls that were cut shortly, well it was kind of cool because that cost her only R20.00.I was little to understand that you were worth more than that.
I look at you now and beat myself up for using chemicals that are always praised and called relaxers to make you look softer and longer, well I hope you did not blame me because I did not know that I could still rock you hard and thick. Was it you punishing me when you got growth few weeks after I relaxed you? Well I guess so but can we laughably agree that I took a good care of you? I was the “it girl” rocking a soft “lephondo” everyday at school, knowing very well that you will only mate with hairpiece during December, three days before Christmas. Gone are those days J.I always jumped excitedly knowing very well that I will be whipping you on braids while I am wearing new clothes and of course wait for the 1st of January to do that again.
I am playing with my dreadlocks now and I can feel the connection. It’s a soulful thing. I will never regret the day I took off all my hair two years ago and decided to go natural. I guess I finally accepted who I was and held you tight just to start this journey together. I could not be afraid of cutting my hair off anymore. I went bald just to start all over again and it was a dearly conscious decision that I had to do alone. I gave the same person who used to take me to salon the responsibility of taking the ruined chemical hair out and release me from prison.
Few months after feeding my soul and my Rastafarian thoughts in to my natural hair, my hairdresser finally locked you and I can never be proud of myself like that. I am sorry for not understanding that you were worth more than the money I spent at the salon. All I had to do was to spend none and just go natural because at the end it was never about the money. People need to understand that their hair is a big deal and I have learned that too. You have increased the Africanism and consciousness that is within me. I don’t see myself blazing happily on weaves because I know many women wear them not because they are exquisite but because they cannot stand owning up to their hair. It is very wrong for an African Woman to feel naked with her hair. That is being a mental prisoner.
Thank you for growing all over again. I look at you everyday and realize how beautiful you make me look and feel. My beautiful big chicks gravelly stands out and smile at you. My hairdresser tenderly seduces you and my dear he loves doing that. He loves his job and I know he is taking you serious. I will never hair dry you and you will never feel the heat of a relaxer ever again.