I Accept

I cut off all my hair.

I cut off all my permed hair.

I took out the braids I had (featured here) and washed my hair. I had it done when I was in New Orleans at a small shop. Two ladies braided my hair and I really did love it.

However, when Shahedah and I were taking it out, I started to notice that my hair was hella short. I haven't had a perm since March or April, so of course some of my hair has gone curly and it has shrunken, but dis bin pasmak (this was bad).

After we (mostly Shahedah because I fell asleep on the floor, head in her lap) took out about 3/4 of the braids, Shahedah and I realized that the fools who braided my hair stopped and tied it before my real hair had been completely braided in. So when we were cutting the loose ends of the braids, we were also cutting off about an inch and a half of my real hair.

When all the braids were out, I had this cute, sort of long fro beaming out of my head. I did think it was cute. I sprayed in some detangler (which worked like a Miracle) and combed out my hair. After all the dead hair was out, I washed it twice (because it was mad dirty...I only washed my braids once). Then I conditioned it, although no adequately.

Then my hair shrunk even more into a slightly shorter afro with permed hairs sticking out like Black people at a clan meeting.

My aunt asked me if I want to just cut the "stray hairs" off and have my afro of all natural hair. Without hesitation, I jumped up to say yes and got her some scissors. She trimmed my hair and I thought about other things, like sushi dinner we were going to that night.

A few minutes later I stood up to look in the mirror at this totally different girl. Of course I looked different but that's not what I mean. It is hard to explain but I was a different girl.

I think that something has to happen in you, as a Black woman, to go natural. We love our silky wraps, and turning our heads like the White girls. I used to be so frustrated that my hair didn't toss like the White girls I went to elementary school with in Wisconsin. But Auntie Rugie did put beads in my hair which is the dopest hair style ever.

So I cut it all off. Left was about 2 inches of natural new growth that shall never know the feeling of a relaxer. My Auntie Teresa stopped by my Auntie Rugie's house and asked my why I did it. She was like "Why did you cut off all that beautiful hair? You used to have such nice hair!"

Looking at her with her super shiny perm, I know she thought my hair was hideous. Short and "nappy", no movement and no perm.

And a lot of people will think that if not say that. That my hair used to be pretty, that I looked better before, that it doesn't look professional.

I think it is so sad. This is the hair that I was born with. These are the genes I was given by my mother, by my grandmother, by my great grandmothers. This is my hair.

I am not my hair. Remember when India said that? I loved that song but it didn't mean then what it means now.

I did feel, for a minute, less pretty when I looked at my shrunken afro, without shine, without length. Obviously, although I recognized that the White aesthetic is the right aesthetic is a fraud perpetuated by many the many vehicles through which culture is imparted, I still bought it and ate it like a last meal.

For now, I'm going to keep my hair in braids until my natural hair is of a more suitable length. I have a shrunken head, so these 2 inches of hair ain't enough. A few more inches will give the appearance of a larger head to match this gargantuan intellect, giant mouth, and an infinitely giving heart.

I'll keep you posted on the developments of life after a relaxer. I accept this challenge. It's a challenge.

I spelled "gargantuan" without having to look it up. I looked up afterwards. Dope huh?