Yesterday I went in for my hair consultation for my locs. It's a little overwhelming trying to decide the size of locs, but this is what I decided.
Tuesday is the big day and I can't wait!
It's interesting though the responses I get from people when I say that I'm getting locs. I've gotten everything from that's interesting to don't you just let your hair get really dirty and don't comb it?
I'm well aware of how most of the world stereotypes black women by their hair. I think I've shared in past blogs how people approach me or don't approach me depending on the style of my hair.
I decided a few years ago that natural was going to be it for me. No more chemical relaxers and no flatiron on my hair daily - I'm just going to do me and people can make all the prejudgements that they want. If you're going to make a decision about me based on my hair I don't want you in my life anyway.
As I was sorting through pictures this morning I came across pictures of my seven-year-old granddaughter with girls that she met for the first time on a 2 day stay in Prescott. I was drawn to the smiles on their faces and the love in their eyes. They met, accepted each other, and acted as if they had been lifelong friends. Oh, how I had forgotten about the innocence of a child. The color of skin, the size of a body, the structure of a face does not matter. They are ready to accept and love unconditionally until we and society teach them differently.
There was nothing but smiles and laughter as they danced, made beaded jewelry, and ate. They made sure that they all were a part of whatever they were participating in. They cared about each other's feelings and made sure that everyone was having fun and was happy. Why is it that we grow to become so obsessed with appearance and behavior of others that we miss seeing the light or the struggles in others? We're so quick to judge b…
I had a draining Sunday due to a situation that happened and stayed in my thoughts longer than it should have. So today I'm going to write about it and release it.
A gentleman around the age of 60 that had both legs amputated decided that myself and a coworker was his verbal punching bag. As he screamed at us he always managed to say, I'm an amputee in each sentence. We both remained as calm as humanely possible, and I mentally reminded myself as the horrible and hurtful words were spewing out of his mouth - hurting people often hurt people as a result of their unresolved issues. But, what I also was reminded of how damaging words can be.
I went home and had dinner with my family, relaxed, and did my usual night routine, but I continued hearing his hateful words. I couldn't seem to shake those thoughts. It could be that I hadn't experienced behavior as such after I left home at 18, so I wasn't mentally prepared for it, or he triggered a…