Hair

About an hour ago I got back from the hair salon. I got my hair trimmed, washed, dried, the whole shebang, but I also got it straightened. The truth is that my naturally curly, afro-esque hair has been straightened for longer than it hasn't been and I've recently learned that to "go natural" would be a really long, quite ugly process.

When I was younger I would tell my mom that I wanted to have hair that moved in the wind. I wanted to wear headbands, pony tails, and style it different ways for special occasions. I wanted long hair that touched my shoulders, hair that moved and felt like Mom's. Basically, I wanted a white person's hair. Its what I saw on TV, what I saw at school and though Mom wasn't white, its the hair I thought she had.

Raising a daughter now has brought so many weird things about myself to light in ways I've never considered before. I don't want her to be insecure about her hair like I was for so long. I just found this article on NPR's site, its excellent.

"Don't need a trip to the beauty shop cause I love what I got..." That's a song I hope to hear my girl singing one of these days. :)