Friday, October 01, 2010

I can't deal so let's talk about my hair.

The title says it all.

I really cannot emotionally deal with um, life in general right now so we need to discuss The Fluffy AkA my hair.

I talked about my hair a couple of years ago in this post and today I have some new views and feelings.

First a little video I made awhile back. It's just a slide show but it does tell a story.

Between then and now I've gone natural. *GASP*

Now for those who aren't aware going natural means I've ceased to process my hair chemically to change the texture.

In the Black community there is often rancorous discussion about whether or not to go natural. About whether or not chemically altering your hair is an action spurred by internal loathing of one's Blackness.

For me, this has not been the case.

No matter which way I've cut it, this is just not something I have really had an issue with. I love and celebrate my blackness because there is no other alternative.

This was not a political decision for me. It honestly wasn't even a decision as these things go it just kind of happened.

I've learned that my hair is as vari-textured as I recall. From almost straight in spots to really kinky. Waves, a few curls. And my hair is astonishingly thick. Bot the individual hairs are thick and they are very dense on my head.

I did not remember that my hair easily straightens without heat, but not in a laying down kind of way. When my hair is well moisturized and I wrap it in my scarf nightly as I do, usually in the morning it's pretty straight. Straight and fluffy.

Now it doesn't stay that way. It's humid and moist in Seattle thus my hair gets fluffy.

And it's all good.

I'm still really styling challenged. I wear my hair up in a very school marm like bun. I've watched as my bun has gotten bigger and fuller. Right now I can just get my hand around it.

I'm also far more relaxed about compliments on my hair.

A few months ago I had done this elaborate (for me)bun with twisted locks of hair secured with pins (that worked but my hair tried to eat two) a White man on the bus tapped me on the shoulder and said, "your hair looks like a pastry and it's awesome."

Possibly the weirdest hair comment I've ever gotten and I found it delightful because on some inspection he was absolutely right it did look like a pastry.

And that's okay with me.

I am in the camp of people who enjoy a non creepy compliment. I talked about this a long while back and I haven't changed my mind.

I'll revisit that some other time.

Okay back to the point here.

As I've probably mentioned I am often working on figuring out what I do and don't need to believe. With my hair winding up natural, I have discovered that I don't need to engage about my hair.

I don't care.

No really I don't give a fuck what anyone thinks about whether my hair is natural, relaxed or what.

I was getting there in my last hair post but privately I still had the angst sometimes.

Now I don't.


And it feels wonderful.

Not as wonderful as my hair feels though. My hair is fluffy silky soft bliss.

And this has led me (haha check me out sneaking in some intersectionality) to yet another Duh moment.

At some point I realized that this non-decision about my hair is a part of a larger move towards not even engaging.

I'm not going to engage in arguments about what is and is not healthy for me with anyone who has not lived in my body or who demonstrates a marked lack of interest as to what might be healthy for me.

And this includes doctors. This includes strangers in Meatspace and Internets land. I'm just not going to justify myself.

I will engage in dialogue with people who give the impression that they are paying attention. That they are interested in hearing what I have to say.

I will probably do a post about bullying at some point. I'd like to talk about some that I experienced as a youngster but I haven't worked out how to do that without it turning into something hurtful for others to read. I have issues about that. But I will try because it's important.

And lastly a couple of pictures of my fluffy as she is now.


That is my soaking wet hair right after a wash. It wasn't really that tangled it's just that wild y'all.


And that is how I look quite often when I get home from work and take down my bun. As time goes on when my hair is down it gets fluffier and fluffier and it's fucking awesome.

The color is courtesy of a few years of regular hennaing, which I will probably do this weekend.

And a last thought. It feels really wonderfully freeing to have this photographic record of me and my hairs. It feels nifty.

So that's all my darlings. I'm really fucking tired. I forgot to sedate myself last night and consequently didn't really sleep. A whole other post.

Please be kind to each other. Given how rough the last week in the news has been maybe try a little harder. It's important.

Homo Out.


Rebecca said...

Hey Shannon - so, you are local to seattle like me. I have some clothes I was thinking of donating but wanted to see if you wanted them first? But I am unsure what size you wear, etc. Email me about it? wearelargepeople at gmail.

FreeFox said...

There was this boy in my class a few years back. We took swimming lessons together. His dad was German an his mum Cameroonian. He had this totally great chocolate skin and very Afro hair. When he dived and got it wet it was always, like, suddenly three times as long as when it was dry. Usually it went to his chin, and when it was wet it went over his shoulders. And then he would shake his head and these perfect gold-and-silver glittering little droplets would fly every which way and his hair would zip back up to normal length. Fascinated me no end. (That and he was cute as all hell. Man, did I ever have a crush on him... *sigh*)
Eventually he cut it really short. He was still cute as all hell, but I was very disappointed. And I never got a chance to run my hand through his hair - you just don't do it at that age - even though I always wanted to very badly.

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