"Because You're Worth It, Too"
I'm a little ashamed to admit that I have aspirations for my hair.
My own five year plan reads a little like "Step 1: Get good job; Step 2: ????; Step 3: Success", but my hair, well...it has goals.
As a woman of African descent, I have an intrinsic love-hate relationship with my hair that has led me to burn, chemically-alter, braid, trim, oil, twist, curl, cut, and generally torture the thousands of hair follicles unlucky enough to live on my head in my pursuit of beauty and--ultimately--happiness. Like the devotion of the faithful, I have drank of the Kool-Aid that is watching Pantene commercials and dreamed of the day when those swinging, straight locks on TV could be mine. Someday, I would think, I will shake my hair and the world would fall at my feet, in love with my divine beauty. Then, of course, I'd use Pantene and my hair would fall out. I'm still a little bit miffed at those commercials. Isn't there supposed to be truth in advertising? Do they even use Pantene on those women's hair to get that shine? The only thing I've ever gotten from that damned shampoo and any list of others is breakage.
Seven years ago, I decided--after dying my hair light brown (sans bleach) and having it turn an unfortunate shade of red in the sun--that I would never again put chemicals in my hair. It was a very defiant!Scarlett/Tara moment. You had to be there.
Part of me merrily assumed that I could get braids for the rest of my life--of course, not contemplating how much it might cost to do that every month--and then at some given point my hair would finally grow past my shoulders to my waist, be thick and luxurious and not anything like a very large afro. But, unlike adinkra, I was terminally unable to even consider doing the Big Chop, in which all of my old dyed and/or permed hair would be eliminated and in which I'd have to see the shape of my own skull. Of course, getting rid of all the crap hair would have given me the oh-so-cute corkscrew curls she later sported, but where adinkra was cute, I imagined it scaled up to my size plus my big head, and thought, Hm...no..
So, then I spent the next four years trimming a little here and there so that when I finally got rid of the bad hair, the total length was still depressingly at my shoulders.
Then I discovered natural hair care and my hair began to grow. It thickened, it lengthened, but long hair was elusive...until today. I finally straightened my hair (or rather my mother did and only sort of because it's still poofy) and discovered it extends all the way to the middle of my back. But I admit, I'm a little perplexed. My hair has very nearly achieved its goal of waist-length glory. Whatever will it do next? It's a little unnerving and a wee bit anticlimactic.
But hey, at least it bounces. Sort of.
My own five year plan reads a little like "Step 1: Get good job; Step 2: ????; Step 3: Success", but my hair, well...it has goals.
As a woman of African descent, I have an intrinsic love-hate relationship with my hair that has led me to burn, chemically-alter, braid, trim, oil, twist, curl, cut, and generally torture the thousands of hair follicles unlucky enough to live on my head in my pursuit of beauty and--ultimately--happiness. Like the devotion of the faithful, I have drank of the Kool-Aid that is watching Pantene commercials and dreamed of the day when those swinging, straight locks on TV could be mine. Someday, I would think, I will shake my hair and the world would fall at my feet, in love with my divine beauty. Then, of course, I'd use Pantene and my hair would fall out. I'm still a little bit miffed at those commercials. Isn't there supposed to be truth in advertising? Do they even use Pantene on those women's hair to get that shine? The only thing I've ever gotten from that damned shampoo and any list of others is breakage.
Seven years ago, I decided--after dying my hair light brown (sans bleach) and having it turn an unfortunate shade of red in the sun--that I would never again put chemicals in my hair. It was a very defiant!Scarlett/Tara moment. You had to be there.
Part of me merrily assumed that I could get braids for the rest of my life--of course, not contemplating how much it might cost to do that every month--and then at some given point my hair would finally grow past my shoulders to my waist, be thick and luxurious and not anything like a very large afro. But, unlike adinkra, I was terminally unable to even consider doing the Big Chop, in which all of my old dyed and/or permed hair would be eliminated and in which I'd have to see the shape of my own skull. Of course, getting rid of all the crap hair would have given me the oh-so-cute corkscrew curls she later sported, but where adinkra was cute, I imagined it scaled up to my size plus my big head, and thought, Hm...no..
So, then I spent the next four years trimming a little here and there so that when I finally got rid of the bad hair, the total length was still depressingly at my shoulders.
Then I discovered natural hair care and my hair began to grow. It thickened, it lengthened, but long hair was elusive...until today. I finally straightened my hair (or rather my mother did and only sort of because it's still poofy) and discovered it extends all the way to the middle of my back. But I admit, I'm a little perplexed. My hair has very nearly achieved its goal of waist-length glory. Whatever will it do next? It's a little unnerving and a wee bit anticlimactic.
But hey, at least it bounces. Sort of.