I got my hair cut. Gone. Chopped. It was the first week in January and it was a decision made over years. I like it and that’s what matters the most! I have to care for it and no one else. My hair wasn’t damaged, but I felt like I needed to start fresh. It was a burden trying to do my hair with Rheumatoid Arthritis and not having the funds to go to a salon regularly. So doing it myself was a task that many natural hair girls understand and it was a task on top of a task with my hands, arms, wrists, and fingers.
I am learning to maintain this style. It’s easier to wash and detangle. I still have to twist it, but it’s not too bad. I guess because the hair is shorter! People are so opinionated about what we do to our hair. I could never understand why so much fuss about my hair or our hair. How superficial we can be! How obnoxious and even discriminatory we can be as human beings. Over…hair! I often find people think you should fit into their culture or subscribe to their definition of beauty. It’s very closed minded to think your culture should set the standard for all of humanity and it’s beauty. It took me some time to love my hair. My natural hair growing out of my head. You know, like your natural hair growing out of your head. It’s mines. God gave it to me. It’s up to me what I do with it and not you.