My hair is who I am. I sometimes want a more defined curly hair but I have to deal with who I am. It’s on my head. Everyone sees me, sees my hair, it is a part of my whole image. It can determine if I’m wild or mild. It can also determine if I am truly in love with myself or not and it seems that I’m not in love with me. I do not take care of my mane, I let it go wild in a manner that may attract but it keeps my self-esteem lowww. It keeps me in the pits, it keeps me wanting to heal, wanting to love my skin but I can never put enough effort to pamper this skin this hair.
I want to say I love me, I want to say I love this body, but where does the love begin when I’m hurting every day where are the vitamins, where are the minerals, where are the fruits and ve-ge-tables? I am going to try better next time, I’m gonna pamper myself like no other, I’m gonna love this body, from the inside out, no self-defeating lies, no feeling of unworthiness cause I am worthy of l-o-v-e. I am worthy!
2 comments :
Aww Sis...I really do feel you. It can be hard to love the hair that seems to betray you after you put so much care into it. It's hard when all the beautiful natural hair seems to be African at heart, but manipulated into boing-y curls and down-right unlike like ours. Keep your head up. There are other glasses-wearing sisters with frustrating 'fros feeling your pain (and your triumphs)!
Nice hair on that picture :)
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