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On December 30, 2004 I began the process of locing my hair. Before that day I had been considering the drastic change from head full of perm to a head full of locs.
Growing up I was always told by my grandmother that “your hair is your beauty” and for her that meant long straight permed hair down your back. Growing up my home was filled with women and each one of them in my opinion was addicted to the perm. Since the age of six, every six weeks or so my mother and I would make the hour long trip to New York from Connecticut to visit what was known to us as the queen of hair dressers. I can remember watching as she would mix this white cream and then apply it to my mother’s hair and an hour later she would walk out with nice straight bouncing hair and a huge smile on her face. I remember wanting the same feeling and wanting that lovely bounce. I thought that was the only way your hair should look. I begged and begged my mother at the age of ten to perm my hair, eventually she gave in and I was introduced to the world of not only bouncing straight hair but a burning scalp to go with it. So from the age of ten to the age of nineteen I was what I now know as addicted to the feeling and look of what the perm did to me and my self image.
In 2002 I went away to college. This was the time they say you really find out who you are. In my case, that was somewhat true. I realized that in the few years prior to entering college I would have braids done to my hair. I would make an appointment at a braiding salon and once I was there would prepare myself for the six to eight hour session. After doing this routine for about three or so years I started thinking about locing my hair. Braids were no longer for me and I was frustrated every time I had to sit for hours to have them done, so in my mind locs would be the next best thing. It was a tough decision and when I spoke to my family about the idea it was shot down as quickly as I bought it up.
I was born in Jamaica and in my culture people with “Dreadlocks are thought to rebellious, outcasts and of the Rastafarian religion. So when I told my family that 1. I was going to stop perming my hair, 2. Cutting it very short and 3. Locing it up
It was not received very well. Again my grandmother made the statement “your hair is your beauty” meaning once you do and loc your hair, you are no longer beautiful. My aunt made the statement, “you are too beautifully for Dreadlocks” and my mother thought of it as “knotty bungles”. Even through all the negativity I know it was something I wanted to do for myself and something I had to do. The more my family was against it, the more determined I was to do it.
It has been five and half years and I have enjoyed every day with my locs, I feel my locs represents a part of my strength and courage. On July 31, 2008 after growing my locs for four years I decided it was time for a trim and I cut about six inches off. As my hair fell to the ground I felt a sense of lost. I was tearful and sad, but then after it was done and my hair was drastically shorter I just realized that I am not my hair, my hair is not me, I choose it to represent the outside version of me. For many years it was a concern of my family and friends if I would be looked at differently or if I would be able to secure a job with locs but in the end my locs in some way has given me the strength to fight through the stereotypes and courage to wear them proudly. I am proud of both my culture and the natural state in which God created my in.
I might not have locs for the rest of my life but I can say I will never go back to perms.
My hair is natural, its wonderful, its beautiful and its loced! There is no greater beauty than the real you.
Great post - your locs are beautiful :o)