Innocently enough, I couldn’t sleep.
I expected to have this problem last night when I couldn’t sleep, and again this afternoon (around 1:30pm) when I finally woke up to begin my day.
Also innocently enough, I was browsing a tumblr looking at pictures of curly girls. Yes, it is quite likely that I’m obsessed but I fully embrace that possibility.
Then I happened upon a picture…
Now, its not often that I’ll look at a natural head of hair shorter than mine and experience curl envy. I can look at like, I can even look and love, but not that “Oooooh if only my hair….” feeling. I did with her hair. I said to myself, “If only my hair was full and defined like that…I would definitely wash and go if it did that!” For some reason today, unlike any other day, that didn’t sit well with me at all.
Perhaps its because I’ve been sitting at home going stir crazy because of this snow. Perhaps its because I just shopped for combat boots to wear with a tutu…or perhaps its just because I’m feeling more me these days, but the fact that I gave myself a condition (upon which to be myself) just pissed me off. How DARE you, Jessica?! How dare you subject your hair, and your arms to hours of twisting, rolling, setting, sealing and coiling because you are too chicken to actually embrace your natural curls? Isn’t that the whole point of being natural? I could have been roller setting with a perm!
Somehow I just internally fell like a house of cards unearthed. I thought about the conditions I give myself in general. Like, for instance, these combat boots and tutu. Ok, its really not a tutu, its just a tiered skirt trimmed in sequins…but I was definitely wearing it with a wife beater, layered necklaces, and a blazer. I couldn’t be too girly with it though…and I thought oooh I’ll wear this in LA, and with boots! Why wait? I’ll tell you why…because where I live it is a drying puddle of mud. When I go out to LA I see people wearing what they want, sometimes it matches or makes sense, other times it doesn’t and I love that about the city. That, however, should not limit me. I should not be a different me just because of my latitude. Don’t get me wrong. I still love button downs and blazers…but why should I have to limit myself? Put myself in a box to make people feel comfortable? To make myself feel comfortable. The only comfort I feel is in familiarity, because it damn sure isn’t freedom.
I’ve always loved MAC. I play in make up all the time, I love bright colors, bold colors, neutrals, shimmers, bronzers, you name it. I don’t even play in that the way that I used to. I feel like I want to shake myself awake…baby, you haven’t been living. You’ve just been existing…wake up! I read something the other day…and even made it my FB status, it reads: “If you wait long enough, you’ll die. Don’t live life waiting to die. Get out there and happen to life!” I have to be me. Whatever that means. By any means necessary. Unconditionally. Every.Single.Day.
I think the thing about “natural” is the freedom. The girls saying ufck the world, this is me take it or leave it. That’s at least what I find beautiful about it. While it may have started just to get healthier hair…it became so much more. And this is not a hair blog or even a hair post…its just what made me realize I was putting myself in a box. I’d told myself that the ME I want to be on the inside is in some way, or in some cases unacceptable, and I put limits on her. The thing about life is…we’re all vibrating at this frequency…low tones. When something comes along and skews the sound, chops and screws it a bit…our song is never really the same. We have to evolve into something else because we can’t un know the known. For that I’m grateful. Now that I know better…if I don’t do better then I’m worse off than I was before. Motherfuck the wagon come join the band…vibrate higher. (3stacks you’re so ahead of your time…)