I recently went back to wearing a weave in my hair, something I swore I didn’t want to do, but my ex-hairdresser had done such a poor job maintaining the hair that I spent years growing out that it was back under the wig for me. I was thrilled to have it back in immediately and wondered why I thought it was so great to go natural when I could have perfect, flowing curls. My old weave addiction was back and suddenly I felt prettier, stronger, it was the weirdest sensation, but it got me thinking, why are we so hung up on hair?
The power of the weave was so strong that I took my weave down yesterday and didn’t even want to run a quick errand because I was afraid somebody would see me. It was like going out of the house naked.
Look, everybody wants to look good, that’s a given, but it seems that the “good hair” /:bad hair” war hasn’t ended, but has gone underground. Many of us have internalized it and still strive for the perfect tresses. For as long as I can remember I have always wanted long hair like all my friends and cousins had. I was so upset growing up because I had the rougher stuff that just wouldn’t grow down my back and now that I can buy longer hair I do so and often.
As a woman in my early thirties you would think I would let all that hair stuff go, but when I look at myself in the mirror without the weave, I feel a little bit less pretty and my confidence takes a nose dive. It’s the same face, the same smile, the same me, but without the hair I just feel, blah.
Does long hair make us look prettier or is it jut an illusion, and if it is an illusion why are we so quick to buy into it? I’m sure there is some psychological reason involved, but face it, there is nothing like being able to swing your flowing hair. I think for me, its being able to have that thing tat made the girls I grew u with “prettier” than me.
I wonder if in a way we never stop being that little girl who never feels as if she is pretty enough, tall enough, skinny enough? I mean I’m thirty-four years old, am I ever going to get to that point when I look at ourselves in the mirror and am really, truly okay with what is staring back at me?
I guess the truth is that thirty isn’t some type of magic switch in which you automatically have all the answers. I guess I still have a lot more maturing to do and that’s okay, because I’m really enjoying the journey. A journey that I might add I’m bringing my weave along for, but with the knowledge that I make it look good, not vice versa.
till next week…
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