..About Self Love

My all-time favorite quote is, "Show me a man that is not full of himself and I'll show you a hungry man". I believe that I heard it from Ms. Maya Angelou.

That quote pretty much sums up how I feel about myself. Far from starving I am full to bursting and head over heels in love with myself. What others perceive as flaws I see as exclamation marks punctuating my beauty and making me standout out from the merely attractive. I have never suffered from lack of self esteem. Whether a size 10 or 16, I am still all that and a 3 piece dinner.

Now, being a Black woman in America, my hair has become something of an issue for some fairly close to me. Why? Well, I've decided that I no longer want to use chemical processes to straighten my hair. Honestly, I don't know what I want to do with it. I just know that I am sick of tired of having my hair relaxed. I am 34 years young and I feel that I am capable of making a decision about the hair that grows out of my head without commentary from everyone I come in contact with. I've worn my hair chemically relaxed for so long I no longer know what my hair texture is.

My sisters over at the Long Hair Care Forum lovingly refer to the chemical cream used to straighten the hair as "creamy crack". I think this is a fitting nickname because an overwhelming majority of Black women are addicted to this process.

Is is because we're too lazy to get educated about our own unique hair? Or have we bought into the stereotype that everything European is more beautiful and we must adopt their self image in order to be considered attractive? Either way that's just not me. If my hair grows down to my knees or I decide to shave my head bald tomorrow, in the words of Ms. India.Arie "I Am Not My Hair".

I have nothing against relaxed hair as I've worn mine this way for a number of years and it is beautiful. But now I want something different. I want texture and thickness again. Some people's word for what I want is "nappy". Well, if that's how you see it, then yes, I want nappy hair again. I no longer want my hair plastered to my head. I'm not offended by the word "nappy". There was a time when I ran from nappy hair because I had no idea what to do with it or how to care for it. I was also insulted by this word because whenever it was hurled at me, it was derogatory and meant to be hurtful.

Now, I embrace it. I know who I am and am quite comfortable with my tight, kinky coils. I often sit at work and feel my roots just to feel them spring back against my hands. I quite literally revel in this "nappy" hair now.

The women that came before me didn't need creamy crack and neither do I. I'm glad it's an option but I am equally glad that braids, bantu knots, twists and pressing combs are also at my disposal. So you do and let me do me. And remember -

I can look like anything I want from one day to the next but I am always

always

always

beautiful

beyond

description.

...Where I've Been

Hello, constant companions. Some of you have been wondering what I've been up to. As you recall when we started this journey I told you I would never talk just to hear myself talk. Don't get me wrong I've had plenty to say but I also believe that words have power.

The power of life and death lies in our tongues and because I was vexed I opted to say nothing rather than say something hurtful. Make no mistake I would have meant every word, however, I've matured enough to have learned that everything doesn't need to be said.

Just like your mama didn't have to say anything to you in church to get her point across, sometimes I'd rather just hold a cold, withering stare. I'll hold that stare until the subject of my disappointment becomes agitated and uncomfortable. Then I'll walk off and leave them to stew in whatever mess it is they have made.

Redundancy is also a pet peeve of mine. I don't like to be told the same thing repeatedly and I will not repeat myself ad nauseum.

For an example, if my husband has watched us struggle repeatedly to make ends meet, is it really necessary for me to call a conference every two weeks to nudge him towards gainful employment? If you're a grown ass man with 3 small children and a wife, at what point after the unemployment benefits run out do you decide to get up off of your ass and become an asset instead of a liability to the household? How long does this darling man expect for me to be loving and supportive before the bitch in me is roused from her slumber? Would I be wrong if I just took off of work early one day for the sole purpose of coming home to plant my foot....

On second thought, I'm not as purged of my venom as I initially thought. I'll need more of a cooling off period.

Oh well, on with the show!

(But do stay tuned for more of what vexes me.)