Coming Home

I often think about happiness as a home; the different rooms representing different parts of our life. A home is supposed to be your safe haven, to keep the things you love inside and the ones you don’t out. The only way to gain access is with a key, but what is the key to happiness? I believe it is self love. Self-love gives us access to recognize the rooms we love and the ones we have outgrown and need to change. Being a black woman I must admit self loving is particularly hard; we were unfortunately born with broken room walls. Our minds are warped by colonial beliefs and we are taught not to love our black features. Our skin? Too dark. Our lips and nose ? Too big. Our hair ? Too “nappy”. 

2017 was my year of self reflection. I looked up one day and realized my house had crumbled, all happiness was gone.While attempting to rebuild I stumbled upon a closet in my room of body image, called “Hair”. Mirroring the movie I was reluctant but as soon as I viewed the chronicle of my Narnia I was transformed. I was taken back to the year of 2015 when I was first introduced to the natural hair movement. With my little knowledge and limited resources I had chosen to go natural. During this time two of my most important rooms were being shook, school life and home life. I was being told by teachers to find something to do with my hair because it “did not look good” and then go home and hear the same from my family. I suppose the only thing that kept me sane was “my patch”. Early on in my journey I had cut the relaxed ends off a small patch behind my left ear. I would sit for hours bubbling with excitement at my curls coming in. It was unprecedented territory. I however relapsed to the creamy crack many times before I finally stuck to it. My last relaxer was July 14th 2017 and I officially cut all my relaxed ends off about a year later. 

My hair was relaxed at a very young age. So here I was, in the midst of rebuilding, living on my own and taking care of myself, with a head full of hair I knew nothing about. YouTube became my best friend during this time, I would sit for hours watching videos and doing research about black hair. I was making my own money at this point and could somewhat afford to experiment. I transformed my closet into a dream, Carrie Bradshaw had nothing on me. I had my hair regimen down and my hair was flourishing. Unfortunately another room stunted my progress, it was called relationship. I was with someone who was not used to my texture and I used braids to hide. Once I gained the courage I left my relationship and began wearing my hair out again. This prompted me to think about the different rooms in my life stunting my growth. I hated living in New York, so I made plans to move to Florida but there was also the room of school. I was on a full scholarship majoring in chemistry, doing well but it never felt right. 

I was pressured to apply for a scholarship that my job offered. I reluctantly did as i was planning to take a year off to qualify for in-state tuition in Florida and also to figure out what I really wanted to do. I supposed it was against God's will because a few weeks after I settled into my new Florida life I received a “congratulations” email, telling me I had until the end of October to send admissions proof. My school room was empty, it was up to me to decorate it the way I wanted to. I had always considered a career in cosmetology but I never took it seriously. But here I was with the money, the time and the support from all my friends. I did a quick search, took a tour and two days later I was enrolled and officially a cosmetology student.

Looking back leaving my relationship prompted some of the best decisions I have ever made. The verbal, emotional and mental abuse I experienced spilled over into every room of my life.Black women are more likely to be abused than any other race. The broken walls of our homes allow parasitic intruders access. Many of us already walk around with a cloud of self loathe from childhood trauma. I was determined not to repeat this cycle. I had started listening to transformational podcasts when I came across one by a black woman named Patrice Washington, where she spoke about the importance of using your gift to give. I decided then to dedicate my life to helping black women specifically through hair.“Look good you feel good” and black women deserve all the good feelings they can get. If the knowledge I have gained helps alleviate the stress of one bad hair day, I will be fulfilled.The mistakes I made do not have to be repeated, the struggles and lessons learnt can be taught and not experienced. I am proud to say my home is almost rebuilt, eventually I would like to add a salon room where I cater to black hair specifically, and a charity room where I help young black women with any and every aspect of their life. My wish is for all black women to realize that loving yourself is the key, we are beautiful, we are loved, we are the prize.