The Mystery under the wig🤔😳

I finally decided to take my wig off-Sounds so funny to say, but I promise I’m not a balding Middle Aged woman-I’m just a twenty-something year old who’s trying dabbling in alternative inexpensive protective hair style options. 

A few days ago, I somehow mustered up the confidence to take my ombré two toned, dark brown and blonde shoulder length wig off. Yes, I unleashed the fro ✊🏾


I got a little tired and annoyed with the constant heading patting and itching. I think that was either a sign from my hair that it needed to be washed or just a “let me  loose cry!”

So I did as my hair requested. I took the wig off, unbraided my cornrows and man, I tell you, it felt goood to be free…

Now, I was standing face to face with the real me in all of my natural glory. I stared at my natural tresses, examining it intently, stretching the ends to measure the growth and then wondering what the hell Am I going to do with “this” for work.

I thought maybe I’ll think of something once I begin combing through it. And surely, I thought of a cute little twist out idea. The process of this cute little twist out was longer than I expected. Once I start styling my hair, I don’t give up. No matter how long it takes. 

I lathered my hair with my Creme of Nature Argan oil Buttermilk moisturizer, placed shea butter and  around the perimeter (on my edges and nape) for extra moisture, sheen and protection. After, I began the nearly two-hour process of parting my hair into small boxes and doing two strand twists. I still haven’t figured out how to do three strand twists, so for now I’ll stick to what I know. 

The next morning after I was completely showered and dressed, I unraveled the twists. I was a little aggravated because a few twists were awkwardly jutting out of my scalp. I was prepared for those little unruly twists, I used a small amount of Eco gel to hold them down. Thanks Eco Gel, all this time I’ve been doubting. You came through when I needed you. 

Then I was out the door and off the work. The gentle breeze lightly passing over my scalp, like cool fingers as I walked towards the bus stop.  

          

  Later on that same day, one of my fellow naturalista co-workers greeted me with surprise and enthusiasm for revealing the mystery under the wig. She encouraged me to wear my natural hair more often work and revealed her dislike for my wig wearing. Usually I would get oftened by such comments but in actuality, I was receptive and appreciative of her realness. 

It felt good to be me, feel like me and show the real me at work. 

She hasn’t changed my views on wearing wigs, but she has empowered me to switch it up,by aternating between hair style options.  I don’t always have the time or energy to retwist my hair. Plus, wigs are easy and convenient protective options. 

I guess I can let my hair out a little more often from now on. 

A Naturalistas Plea- Sometimes growing is the hardest thing to do

Throughout my entire life, I don’t think I’ve ever had a more infuriating love/hate relationship similar to the one I have with you. 
For years I’ve tended to your needs, by helping you get rid of the excess stress and damage when needed. Mainly because I thought this would be the new, fresh start you deserved. On top of that, I keep you well groomed with the appropriate amount of trimming. I’ve protected you from harsh climates and chemicals. Always making sure you were first, without regard to the price because  your protection is what matters the most. Hell, I’ve even kept my word to never ever ever eveeer allow you to relapse and revert  back to feeding your creamy crack addiction. 

I did my part in this, now it’s your turn to do the same. I’m working non-stop in efforts of tending to your high maintenance needs.

It’s been 4 years, going on 5 and I’m still dealing with your stubborn stagnation. I’ve put up with you for so long. And you’re right, I haven’t always kept my promise or maintained my consistence And I might have even switched my actions a few times, yet not once did I ever dare to give up on you and most importantly OUR journey. 

I want this relationship to flourish but you have to work with me too, not against me. Believe me, when I say this, I want nothing more than for us to grow, but more importantly for you to grow and reach your fullest potential. 

 Come on, it’s been a long time coming, please do this favor for me and 

just 

GROW! 

Dear Solange, Thank you.

Confession: I listen to Solange’s 2016 album, “A Seat at the Table” at least once every week or two weeks. If not the album in its entirety, I play a few tracks throughout the day. It’s just that great and I mean it. This album does something to my soul and allows me to be delve into a creative space. When I listen to the album it’s as if the words trapped in mind are easily brought to life with my pen and poured out onto my notepad. “A Seat at the Table” is empowering, thoughtful, thought provoking and magical. 

This album is authentic and unique in its representation of Black Pride and Pro-Blackness. Solange perfectly pieced this incredible album together with soft melodies and harmonies, meaningful lyrics and powerful words from  featured speakers. Her angelic voice filled with soft notes makes it seemingly effortless for it to match  wit the varying genres on her album. The songs on the album range from a classic R&B vibe to groovy 1970s sound to modern hip-hop. The sound and feel of “A Seat at the Table” is as electic and original as Solange’s fashionable ensembles. I have the feeling that unlike numerous other musicians who work tirelessly to acquire mainstream attention end up derailing from their true musical purpose and message, by selling their self short just to appease listeners. I hold the utmost respect for Solange because I don’t think she purposely made any tracks to appease listeners whether they are Solo fans, not fans or first time listeners of her musical craft. Her popular singles, “Don’t touch my hair” and “Cranes in the sky” lyrically and visually depict what she represents. Solange is not afraid  to show her love for her Black culture and share it with the world. “A seat at the Table” is unapologetic and in no way, I absolutely mean no way is Solange trying to measure up to her  Super-Star Big sis, Queen Bey (Beyoncé). So for all of you Bey Hive supporters and nay Sayers, Solange’s 2016 album proves to the universe that she can and has made a name for herself. Her authentic afrocentricism is untouchable✊🏾. Solange is fearless for this album in various unimaginable ways. For so long, I have listened to Solange’s music, admittedly copied a few hair and fashion ideas from her, but all the while I felt as though she hadn’t acquired the fame or acknowledgement she deserved.  Her sound has always been a little different from other artists, having a sort of 1950s-1970s musical influence. She is truly an old soul in a young modern woman’s body. “A Seat at the Table gives me so much hope for the future. In the midst of every financial set back, job loss, social isolation,emotional withdrawal and self-doubt, this album brought me through each day with a smile and optimism.  Solange has earned the recognition she deserves by creating such an authentic and lyrically beautiful album. I have no doubt Solange’s vast fan base and super stardom will reach all time heights. There are thousands of young people who resonate with what she represents, including myself! 

This album will go down in history as a classic. It’s depth and influence surpasses it just being perceived as a great album with songs. It’s a movement.  It allowed listeners to feel, to think, to understand and to learn. Most importantly, it taught us to love our Blackness regardless of societal perpetuating images and messages of Black cultural hatred.  We are stronger and greater than the world wants us to believe. 

   Thank you Solange Knowles for blessing            2016 with “A Seat at the Table”

Scar woman: Facing Life’s battles

“How di right side ah yuh body suh chop up?”
I’ve always found it easier to make a joke out of my own situation or personal  flaws before someone else points it out and tries to ridicule me about it. I can be pretty sensitive about my appearance, although I try my best not to make it too obvious. I’m sure I’m not the only one, after all we are human, and we all possess some level of self consciousness within us. I just try my best to conceal them, some days I’m quite successful at doing so, while others days… not so much. I like people to see that I’m strong and I’m highly aware of all the physical flaws I have, so in order to mentally and emotionally prep my self for the glares, questions, and teasing, I simply beat everyone else to it by making my own comical relief about them. Before the accident, I had a few scars, that weren’t so obvious or bothersome to me because over the years I learned to accept each one. Ever since the accident, I’ve received more than I bargained for.I should be grateful for the scars, it’s either them or death. And honestly a much as I hate the scars I have, I’d choose them over an eternal nap in a 6 foot hole.
My new scars are all in places that I used to admire and show the most appraisal to: my stomach, my right eyebrow, and underneath my right eye. So when this was said of course in reference to the visible and apparent scars on the right side of my body. The scar on my upper right arm, one on my leg, and the newest additions to the scar collection includes the one on my stomach as well as the cut between my right eyebrow.
I often hear jokes or questions like this about my flaws. Honestly, I’m extremely self-conscious about each of my noticeable stitched scars. It’s bad enough I have to see them everyday and live with each one. I can’t really hide them in certain clothes. To be honest  I’ve stopped trying. I no longer see the significance of hiding what I’ve been through. We all have scars, it just so happens that mine are visible and easier to see. No one is perfect, and I will never be.
My scars do not define me. I won’t allow them to change me or hinder me from getting what or where I want. Scars aren’t the most attractive things to look at, but a person has to offer is so much more valuable than their appearance. I hate these scars. But, if it weren’t for them I doubt I would be the person I am today if I hadn’t endured these painful incidents. It sucks having to be the center of jokes, stared at like a wounded pitiful animal, or constantly being questioned.

I am not my scars.

We’re all mortal beings, which means the bodies we are in are only temporary, therefore we are expected to return it when our time is up. Words can be shallow and hurtful, but I believe my soul and personality are worth more, than attractive scar-less flesh. There was a point in my life I allowed fear and opinion of others to prohibit me from wearing any type of clothing that would reveal the slightest bit of my stitched scars. Not anymore.
The reaction I hear about my scars aren’t new or shocking. Those who are brave enough just stare at them, as if I can’t see their eyes beaming at my scar. They ask questions like:
How did that happen?
Does it hurt?
Did it hurt?
How many do you have?

Life happened. At that time it hurt, but no longer does. In total I have 5.

MESSAGE For Scarred Women:
Your wounds may be visible, never allow your wounds to damage your spirit. You are and will be amazing.

Signed with love,
A physically scarred young woman.