A Tribute to My Hair
Dear Hair,
I have always been intimidated by you.
4 years old, it was 2013.
Stick straight hair was what every preschooler wanted.
Yet there you were, a forest.
You had a mind of your own
Curls and coils spilling about.
Mama has tied you up in a bun since we came into this world.
Your branches never like that.
We lay our head down to sleep
As deep conditioner and endless products soak in.
I pray your tamed coils will last through the night.
I avoided brushing you.
I still do.
Painful fires ignite
When a brush pulls at our tender scalp.
Yet there you were, this voluminous part of me, your flowers, branches, stems - voluminous.
Your curls ginormous one day, calm the next.
I’m not so ginormous.
But maybe I can be voluminous too.
At 7, you were curlier than ever.
I had imagined myself as Sleeping Beauty,
Lying with her hair so neatly arranged around her.
This was not my reality.
Knots and conditioners, brushes and detangling sprays consumed me.
Thanks a lot, forest of mine.
The sheer amount of research
Into curly hair and products.
I saw only the effort I went through to take care of you.
Not the beauty that came with this pain.
The work I have put into you
I sigh.
Why won't you leave me, forest of mine.
At 11, Mama chopped you off.
Four endless inches and dozens of my tears.
I cried for my loss, but you were weak and dry.
Resilient, you grew back stronger, just like me.
Maybe you’re beautiful after all.
Maybe you understand why I will always be intimidated by you.
Thank you, forest of mine.
Even when I wished for straight hair,
You knew better and patiently waited
For me to come around
And learn to care for you.
To help you grow your flowers and roses, forest of mine.
As I stood there with a brush.
Crying when aunties attempted to brush you.
I loved you and didn’t.
Yet you loved me unconditionally.
Now I have learned to love you.
For your beauty screams at me in your ugliest moments as I realize everything you could be.
For you are picky, like me.
For you are my reminder of
Just how voluminous I can be.
The work I have put into you,
I
Smile
And sigh.
Thanks for not leaving me, forest of mine.
The one who wears you best,
Soha Azeen