Pain is a Catalyst for Change

Pain seems to be my catalyst for change.

Not cool.

I am recovering from a recent and sudden break-up.  The relationship was a few months along and then "E" broke up with me suddenly. The details of "why" seem to not matter, I guess. (Well they do, because it'd help me with closure).

But the result is me:

1. Looking for positive ways to cope
2. Reminding myself to take care of myself--AKA gym time.
3. Applying for a really great opportunity--one I may have not explored until it is too late
4. Hoping to find something fun, before I fall in love with someone again.

You and Me, are the WE

51 years ago, Patrice Lumumba was assassinated. The anniversary of his death reminds us of his vision: 

CONGO united, self-sustaining, free, and at peace. 

Sound familiar?
We can no longer pretend that the history of others is not intrinsically linked with our own. 

Welcoming the New Year Naturally

This year, I wore my hair natural, for New Year's Eve and welcomed the New Year Naturally.

I have worn my hair in individual, braided extensions for a variety of reasons.  Initially, my mother had my hair braided as a kid, because it was more convenient than doing my hair every other day.  Later, as I grew older, and especially in high school, I kept braids to match the long, flowy hair of my friends.  (Plus, it was convenient as I was not allowed to relax my hair nor cared to comb it every morning if it were left natural).  Throughout college, I kept my hair braided for the aforementioned reason, but began experimenting with different styles in the down period between taking out my braids, and re-doing them.

In those times that I did not use my hair as a "crutch" or "security blanket," I finally realized that India Arie was right, "I am NOT my hair;" I discovered a new-found confidence.  With an Afro, my choice in outfits focused more on being bohemian, flowy, long skirts, dresses and I paid more attention to dress more for my body type.  My faux-hawk left me feeling bad-ass like Rihanna--I got my septum pierced and had a lip ring to match. Caveat to the lip ring--I had it when I had braids as well, but with my new hair style I felt even more edgy. My clothes were bold; I combed the internet for pictures of fashion forward celebrities such as Gwen Stafani and Rihanna for inspiration on how I could mix and match what was in my closet.  Men often remarked about my "confidence," when I had the faux-hawk. And they were right!  I let go of that misconception that a woman (or I) could only appear beautiful if I had long hair.  Plus, the hair I was gleaning confidence and courage from, was an outside source and not even mine! I needed to figure out how to find confidence and courage within myself.

Now, at the ripe old age of 26, I am rocking an Afro again.  Originally, I intended on putting my hair in kinky twists, because I wanted a more "natural" look, which didn't require me to wake up early to do my hair.  What I found, however, is how much more free I am feeling with my Afro.  I do not have to worry about my roots growing out and my hair looking raggedy--which was the case since I waited 6 months to take them out.  I can scratch my head freely and deeply massage my scalp in the shower when I wash my hair.  I actually take time to take care of my hair (and myself), something that I thought braids afforded me.  While braids were generally convenient, they (a.k.a I) stopped me from taking time to tend to myself--it allowed me to put myself on the back burner; I failed to condition my hair often and keep it moisturized.  In actuality, I felt weighed down with the idea of having to braid my hair next, the hours spent sitting in the chair, and the hours spent later taking out my braids.

 My life is hectic, so whenever I can find a more time-efficient task, I do it.  Often those tasks involve doing something that takes away from my overall well-being.  Even blogging right now is something I've been meaning to do, but put it off because I "didn't have time."  Yet, writing has always been the most cathartic, enjoyable and healing processes for me.

Wearing my hair natural, for about 3 weeks now, is still an adjustment. First, mentally, it is forcing me to take a hard look at my self-perception.  Though I think my natural hair highlights my face and displays my uncommon, pretty, honey-brown hair color, I still worry that men will NOT approach me because of it.  OR I worry men will assume someone with my hair style, may not be receptive to their approaches.  I also have been getting a large amount of attention--something which is generally hard for me to deal with and/or makes me uncomfortable--and immediately I assume it is because of my Afro; I assume people are criticizing it. I wonder why I feel this way--and why I go to the negative first.  I noticed out of all my hair styles, this one garners the most attention AND compliments--yet I feel the most concern that others are speaking negatively about it.  While men generally have responded positively, it is women who seem to give the critical eye, sideways glances or whispers to their friends when they think I'm not looking. Either way, I need to adjust my thinking and keep a POSITIVE perception. Additionally, any time my hair is out of braids, I make a point to go to the gym and stay in shape.  My (subconscious) theory is that with long hair, I can get away with a little weight gain--short or Afro, and the weight gain seems strikingly apparent.  As a result, you will catch me in the gym working on my fitness--which could also be why others find me "confident" during those times--I AM feeling more confident because I am taking care of my body.  The most notable change, is how FREE I feel with my hair natural--it isn't on my neck, keeping me hot.  It isn't the beauty crutch I cling onto to feel confident or use to "elevate" my self-perception of beauty to the height of the (self-inflicted) pedestal of my peers.  It is natural, but unique for it's rarity of those who wear it; I stand out.

It is an attention getter and conversation starter; people also end up paying more attention to my face and/or other features, after the initial surprise/excitement of the Afro has worn off.  An example can be found in my friend Ryan, who I have know for a few months.  Our friendship is platonic, though it did start originally with a kiss, and he treats me as such.  We crossed paths at a local pub to watch a band; he was on a date.  Throughout the night, he stole glances back at me, and searched the pub as soon as his date went to the restroom, for my location.  When he couldn't find me, he text me that I looked "good, rocking the Afro and red that was in my outfit."  He echoed the same sentiment, in another text a couple hours later when I assumed he should have still been with his date.  Given my outfit was nothing out of the ordinary, with shoes I have worn before, I can only assume that somehow, the change in hair helped him take a look at me with fresh eyes.  This is conjecture on my part and I have never verified, but since that night, there has been a considerable change in the consistency of his communication with me.  We only text if the band we liked played at the local pub--generally once a month--and nothing more.  Now, I have heard from him at least two to three times a week, in the last few weeks.  Coincidence? Maybe.  Slightly flattering? Duh!

Wearing my hair natural, along with my New Year's goals, has made me realize how much I let things weigh me down.  I have missed a lot of life by failing to enjoy or take it in, because I was trying to survive or out of the"inconvenience" it would encompass.  I need to MAKE time for myself and to enjoy life's moments. I also need to be more comfortable with who I am, so I do not let negative thoughts fill my mind in perceived situations. I am not saying I will never change my hair style, I do like to change it up and do not like to be restricted or boxed in. However, I do need to embrace the natural, because God gave me features that look best in or are highlighted, their natural form.

Life is a natural process, which I will be enjoying more.