Maybe I am my hair,who knows

livingfromexperience

  • If i had 50 cents for everytime my hair taught me some shockingly profound lesson I wouldn’t be rich by now, but would probably have enough money to take myself out to some place nice for a good dinner (true story). Over the years the journey that my hair has been on and thoughtfully taken me along with has been one worthy of writing home about. From its humble beginings (that i have only been told of by my mother) as long,silky, dark strands that came straight from the womb and demanded attention without asking for it,to its early nappy days of being held up in ‘puffs’ and being plaited by the hands of a woman who will foerever remain engrained in my mind as the torturer. I spent these earlier days of my childhood with the folks from down under (the Australians) to whom my kinky, afro hair was…

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