bask
I remember a time when
he thought I had
fire for a spirit
and an ocean for
eyes, and then one day
“out of the blue,”
I was fire crying an ocean
of tears, instead.
I think I changed.
I think he changed.
we could no longer bask
in the presence of who
we were.
all we wanted to do
was run away from
each other.
and that ain’t love.
that will never, ever
be love.
I continue to be amazed by this journey. The path is curvy with twists and turns, and on some days, I am unsure where we (Ájá & I) are headed, but I am glad we are on our way.
My last wash and interlocking session was on March 11, 2023. My hair was out and free to grow and lock and become a force of beauty and strength. And it did exactly that.
On Sunday, May 07, 2023, my cousin had the tedious task of washing, re-sectioning, and interlocking my hair. I am no stranger to these methods now; I am a soldier on a familiar battleground, and the war is almost at its end.
Just under two months after my last wash and interlocking session, I am greeted by more length and a fuller head of hair.
My cousin does an incredible job with my hair. When she washes it, my soul is moved. I can feel the cleansing process while it’s taking place, and my mind is at ease. She scratches it in sections and pays attention to the dryer spots.
She is like a surgeon — the way she dances around my head with her fingers; plotting the best ways to relieve itching. My hair always feels ten times cleaner and lighter after her hands have massaged my head.
She is thorough yet gentle with just the right amount of force to push away dirt and dandruff buildup. It’s fascinating — the washing process. I am not only in an impeccably relaxed state, but I am also overcome with serenity and joy.
When my hair is clean, I know the next steps are to interlock each section and pull any new growth into its rightful places for continued growth and locking.
During every interlocking session, my anxiety builds. I am anxious to see the outcome. However, there is also an intense amount of patience — knowing that this process provides added length and replenishes the hair as well.
I wish I had the words to describe how I feel walking around with an ever-changing head of hair. I do not.
We started this process as microlocs, but my hair has loc’d in a way that is clearly its own. My locs will probably be bigger than microlocs or even sisterlocks, and I am all right with this.
Whatever Ájá wants to do, I am on board with it! This transition is one I signed up for and perfection was not in the cards.
I want to see what the end of the year will bring when we make it to a full year of interlocking and patiently waiting.
I want to know what December 2023 Ájá will look like. And I know with my cousin’s hands creating, washing, and maintaining my crown of glory, the sight will be one to see.
My hair is growing. It flows on its own and lands just above the nape of my neck. There are sections that are longer than others, but this is to be expected, as I am also growing out a short haircut.
I stare at myself in the mirror. I gaze at my graying edges and perimeter, and I am wooed by these changes.
I am not the same woman. I am changing along with my hair, and every day brings a newer side to me which I am eager to embrace.
The Powers That Be promoted me at work. They have invited me to be a part of our Engagement Team. These novel happenings are keeping me sane and giving me hope for a brighter future.
There is still a deep pain from the loss of my beloved cousin early last year, but I am moving along on a happier note.
I no longer carry grief in my pockets. I hold her memory close to my heart, sit in my favorite chair, and twist my hair because of a new habit.
And with each twisted strand, I think of Chrissy, and I wonder if she’s enjoying this journey with me, too.
I am happy with Ájá’s growth. I admire the length of my hair, and I long to see how long it will get before I become tired of it being too long.
I don’t foresee this happening. I have happily embraced every phase so far. I am positive this will continue.
At the end of this year, I will share where my hair journey has taken me.
One year of growing locs and maintaining them is steadily approaching. I am patient as I mark each day off on my calendar.
I have a few pieces of hair that have already locked and my heart flutters at the sight of them.
I am on my way to loving a full head of dreadlocks, and my soul can do nothing but smile.
Transitioning hair is a topic I love to discuss now. There will be more to come.
Originally published in An Injustice via Medium.
I won’t claim to know
the depth of love a
mother has for her
children; how she will war
for them without hesitation,
disciplines them when it’s
necessary, and sacrifices to
keep them sustained.
She is a queen who does
not own any crowns except
the one on her head, yet she
dazzles the earth with her
power.
I can’t say I know what
she has had to do in
order to make $15.00
last until the next payday
with two other mouths
to feed, but I know
the glow around her as
it shines to reach the
rest of us.
And as we stand outside of
her realm, us … the mothering ones,
watching her and
taking notes, we can
somewhat understand.
If you are a nurturer, caretaking
for someone who needs
an extra hand, I see you.
If you race toward the overtime
offers to pull in additional funds
for a senior pet, a niece or
nephew, or your neighbor’s
neglected twins, I see you.
If you haven’t slept in
three days because your dying
cat’s medicine cost more
than your groceries, I see you.
If you are an older sibling
putting your sisters and brothers
ahead of your wants & needs,
I k n o w that place.
And as we all catapult
ourselves into a constantly
taking world, we give
and give and give until
the last bit of us is
dried up and gone.
And even then, we’ll give
some more.
For the mothering ones;
Your plight is one that
cannot be denied, and with
every piling day, may your
existence be praised from
the pits of full bellies,
from the mouths of babes,
and from the people who
need you most.
I see you.
I hope you have a friend who can remind you with a few words not to go where you feel like you’re going–one who can pull you back up when you feel like you’re sinking without doing or saying too much.
You just get it, and they just get you.
I really do hope you have a friend or friends like this, too.
A Cornered Gurl 
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