I’ve chopped off my hair. Literally.
From my shoulders to where you see it. All gone.
I’ve been tossing around the idea of going natural (where I don’t chemically treat my roots to straighten them) for a year. My laziness when it comes to good hair care is damn near legendary and I like what I see of the natural movement.
The thing is I’m not doing this because of some innate need to get reacquainted with my heritage. Shedding the behaviors of the white man and getting back to me roots? No, not at all. I’ve grown up in a predominantly white area since I was 9, I like being a black girl, but don’t feel this incredible urge to identify or reconnect.
I’m lazy. Period. That’s it.
That’s why I’m trying natural. That’s why I cut it all off. That’s why I’m probably going to keep it short for a while. Because having long, treated hair takes work. You have to keep it healthy and do something with it other than putting it up in a clip. So I cut it short, dyed it light brown and am going to grow it out for a while. Maybe rock a teeny-weeny Afro.
I’m talking (or whatever it is we’re doing) with a white guy who is all about natural hair. He didn’t influence my decision, but when I saw him earlier I found his enthusiasm catching. That and the fact that he complimented me on my ass. Thanks, you.
My hairdresser said it doesn’t matter how short it is as long as you carry yourself with confidence. It’s still feminine and sexy. So, I’m a bad bitch with my new do. I’ll rock it like I own the room. Super fierce. 🙂