Hair

Being Dominican and having Afro hair had left me without an identity of my own. My hair my biggest struggle. Every day waking up looking like a Dominican Goku. Embarrassed I would wear wigs to cover my hair. From an early age having my scalp burned by relaxers. Hair pulled from the roots as I cried on the salon chair. The hair stylist pulling at my dry fro. Pull after pull. Don't be tender headed. Don't complain when it burns. "Are you holding up ok? Does it burn?" The stylist would ask and I would shyly smile and say "no." No, my scalp was not burning like I was just transported into hell and the demons of the relaxer burning a hole into my skull. Too embarrassed I would just sit and wait 45 excruciating minutes for the relaxer to do its work. 

I recently did another relaxer. I miss the feeling of my hair flowing in the wind. The next day I woke up looking like a lioness in heat. Hilarious, yet embarrassing. As I left the restroom I hoped I didn't encounter anyone before returning to the room. 

After getting a phone call for an interview today, I decided to do my braids again. I did two strand and put charms. 

Each charm a representation. A poem on my hair.  As I learn to love and live with my hair. A story will be told. 

        Time a cacoon for my soul.
       As the clock runs down I wonder what she will       Look like when she emerges.
       The butterfly inside the cacoon will look like. 

October 31, 2023

I did my hair today. I haven't used a relaxer in years but the one who birthed me brought it back from her vacation and I decided to give it a shot. It came out nice. 

Not the usual excitement I get from spending hours on my hair. No longer feeling protective of my crown. It's just another thing I can do on my own. 

I took a picture to send to my hubby. He's my inspiration to keep trying even if he doesn't know it. I took the first picture. No smile. I decided to smile. 

took the picture with a smile I looked beautiful. Yet, all I see is how dead I am inside. I smile on the outside but feel

dead. 

Death never looked more beautiful on me 

Another cycle 

I'm slowly creeping back into depression. It happens from time to time. Normally, I reach out to someone and normally, I feel like a burden. I get depressed a lot but barely anyone notices it. 

My partner has been asking me what's wrong? And if I'm ok. I keep deflecting. In my mind I'm just worried about him and his mental state with this never ending stress inducing wasteful job of his. Ugh customer service. Blah. 

Now laying alone. Crying. Not knowing who to turn to has a peaceful concoction. No longer am I reaching out for superficial support. No longer am I letting myself be known intimately unless it truly matters at the moment. 

Empty. This has all left me feeling empty. I'm beautiful now, sure, but who am I? What do I have to offer? Depression is creeping in again. I always survive. After all I'm built differently. 

Shadow

I don't recognize the girl I see in the mirror. I smile when I see her now. She is, I am beautiful. However, beyond the beauty displayed before me in the mirror, my soul feels empty.

Lost.

Disempowered and empowered. 

I'm a shadow of my former self. Now, I can't remember who I'm supposed to be