Tween Hair Blog Too Good Not to Share

My oldest daughter is entering a new age; an age in which she is more interested in her looks form her shoes to the bows in her hair. This new age is called tweendom, and it's already got me confused.

And when you're confused, don't you turn to the internet for answers? I know I'm not the only one. That's when I stumbled upon TweenyHair.

The blog is too good not to share. This blog is written by an average mom (not someone with a background as a hair stylist). She just happens to have a bi-racial daughter with very long, thick, beautiful hair, and she has been determined to put the effort into styling her daughter's hair in interesting ways that won't cause undue damage. No chemicals. Her ideas are inventive and the results are impressive. She gives all her instructions via written word (as far as I have seen) -- no video. She's my new hair hero.

Unfortunately Syd, the mom, stopped blogging in November 2012. As all little girls do, her daughter grew up and has so many interests that she doesn't want to spend as much time on some of the more elaborate styles her mother honed. She's also taken on more of the responsibility of doing her own hair. I can dream!

I have an explanation

I Might Need a Little More Than "Patience..."

This week I've been having a lot of ups and downs with my hair. Should I get it trimmed? Should I try twists again? Should I cut it all off and start again? Should I get another texturizer? The questions have been many, and I don't have any answers.

This new video from Chescaleigh may not have solved any of my hair problems, but it did make me laugh and look at things from a different perspective. Maybe you can enjoy it too...

All Things in Moderation

My first video entry. It's a learning process.
Moderation

Video: "Sh*t Natural Girls Say"

Struggling with Sameness

Of all the challenges I expected to face in my natural hair journey, boredom didn't make the list. But here I am, three months after the big chop, and every day has seen the same with this hair. Eighty-three days of teeny weeny Afros.

In fashion and retail, this is the time of year when winter lines are moved out and spring lines make their debut. Change is in the air! Change is not in my hair. 

I like having options. I like trying new looks with my clothes, make up, jewelry and hair. I'm not really sure how I should feel or what I should do about it, because I wasn't prepared for this kind of doubt. I prepared myself for external pressures. I prepared myself for the ardent quest to find the "perfect" products for my hair.

The Internet is full of ideas for natural hair styles, right? Sure, the Internet is full of hair tutorials. Have I ever mentioned how inept I've always been at styling my own hair. Tutorials for bantu knots, twits, and the like are my DIY nightmare. 

If I'm being honest with myself, I would admit that my dilemma could stem from unrealistic expectations I had about this journey at the onset. Although I knew that I would have to become acquainted with my natural hair texture over time, underneath it all I guess I expected my hair to be more manageable than it is right now. I didn't expect to have trouble keeping it moisturized throughout the day. I didn't expect that my headbands would give me headaches (at least the cute ones do).

The best I can do right now is just think about where I am in my journey. What have I learned in the last three months? What am I looking forward to? What do I do now?

I am Your Frobassador!

When I'm painting a picture of myself that I want people to believe, I say that I started this blog to share my natural hair journey and possibly inspire others. How spiritual of me!

If I am being totally honest, I have to admit that another (possibly greater reason) I started this blog was to make myself accountable to others and follow through on the journey once I began it. In the beginning, I wasn't sure I was cut out for this. I wasn't sure I was ready to accept the unknown. But, hear I am several months after beginning the journey and more than two months after the big chop.

And I find it interesting how many other people find my hair interesting.

November 2011

I have become an ambassador of the Afro Nation - or Frobassador, for short. While people won't stare at my hair, I do find that my hair quickly becomes a topic of conversation when I meet someone new or run into a friend I haven't seen in a while. People want to know what it's like in my country where natural hair runs wild and free (at least metaphorically). How does one apply for permanent residency? Do you have to renounce your citizenship in Processed Hair Land?

Talking is one of the things I do best, and I never mind talking about what's going on in my life so I am happy to talk about my hair. It's interesting that people are more interesting in my hair now than they were when I relaxed it. The natural is novel. The processed is commonplace and, therefore less interesting. Even though I out more effort into my relaxed hair. When my hair was relaxed, I will admit, it usually looked pretty good. But it looked like so many other heads of hair. In it's natural state, there is no other hair like MY hair. And everyday, it's a little bit different.

So when people ask about my hair (How long have you worn it this way? How long does it take to style in the morning? Do you think you'll ever go back to relaxers?) and even touch my lovey lady locs, I'm happy to share. My hair is different, but not so different from anyone elses' hair. It's made from the same proteins and minerals. It's just has a different directive. It's nothing to fear.

I was fortunate to have to Frobassadors inspire me to take a leap: my sister Mary Dedeaux-Swinton and a dear friend Tosca Davis. Whether it's about hair or some other "great unknown," I hope I can inspire someone else to talk a flying leap!

Happy to be nappy!

I Could Never Do That Until I Did It.

The first few days of my new naturalness have been easier than I expected. While I've been looking forward to this for months, I still anticipated some uncomfortable moments (see this previous post and see that I mean).

Have I seen some surprised reactions? Sure. Have I seen anyone faint or drive their car into a brick wall? Fortunately, no.

Perhaps the only barrier to taking this leap into virgin territory was my own mind? I used to think I could never cut off all my hair. My head is too big. I'll look like an alien. (Quiet.) I could never let me hair go natural. It's too big and bushy (which I didn't really know because it had been relaxed for 25 years.) Most of my arguments were based on what I thought people would think.

What I thought people would think. Think about that.

What are you doing in your life that you wish you could quit, you know you should quit, but you won't because of what you think other people will think?

What are you missing out on in life because you worry what other people might think?

I didn't think I could do this until I did it... And I'm glad I did.

It's Just Hair, Right? (Short and Fluffy)

Tuesday was a big day for this girl. I finally did what I said I would do since January. And now that I've done it, I realize that it was something I should have done a long time ago.

Josh at Dionysus Salon & Spa cut off all the relaxed hair. I was unafraid. He kept asking me if I was OK, but I was. In all these months of my transition from relaxed to natural hair, I think I became detached. As I mention in a previous post, I tried the safe route of just getting a slight trim a few weeks ago. That was far more traumatic than the big chop.

It's not just about hair. It's about me being OK with being myself -- with all my idiosyncrasies. I'm not like anyone else and that's OK. Living in a culture that seemingly rewards individuality and the independent spirit, it can still be hard to look and think differently.

And do I look differently! Camille, my oldest daughter, called to me from around the corner when I got home today -- before she could see me. "Daddy said you were going to cut your hair today? Whoa!" she said, squinting her eyes as I entered the room. "You look cool!" Camille is known for her honest critiques.

As I tucked Madeleine, the middle child, in for bed I asked her what she thought of my new hairdo. Her big brown eyes made a huge circle, outlining my hair. All she said was, "I love you, Mommy." Maybe she's heeding the age old advice, "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all," but I will take that as a positive feedback.

Claudia, my youngest daughter, said, "Your hair is short and fluffy. I like it."

There is it, y'all!

I sure DID cut off all that hair!

Am I a rebel looking for a cause? When I started this blog, I acknowledged that I would be one of thousands of "hair bloggers" and that I would probably have very little new to add to the conversation. I cut my hair for myself (and my children), but I know that some people will wonder what my newly-cropped 'do represents. It's a journey: my natural hair journey. I can't quite put into words what this experience means to me. I'm still figuring that out.

Do I Have the Nerve?

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

I made an appointment for my big chop, freedom cut, whatever you want to call it. I had a feeling today that I needed to make a stop on the way home from work Friday, and I'm trying to listen to my feelings more often.

I told the stylist I met with today, that I'm tired to dealing with two hair textures. It's time to jump into the deep end -- the big reveal! Every time I run my fingers through my hair, I grow a little more impatient. 

Shear Embarrassment

My co-worker was surprised to hear that I enjoy going to the dentist. “It’s like a tooth spa,” I’ve always thought. And in today’s economy, you can’t take dental insurance for granted!

The hair salon however, is a different story. With my thick hair, I’ve heard it all from exasperated, frustrated hairdressers.

“Your hair is so thick. I’ve never seen anyone take so long under the dryer.”

“Your hair is so thick, it’s soaking up all the perm. I’m going to need to go back to the back for more.”

“Your hair is so thick I need you to move away from the window. You’re blocking all the sunlight.”

OK; I made that last one up, but it’s close to my real experiences. Even when my hair was relaxed root to tip, going to the hairdressers was never a walk in the park.

This weekend, I had an experience that tops the rest. Or maybe it’s the opposite of tops because it really sucked.

Looking in the mirror recently, my hair just looked scraggly – thick roots and thinning ends. Without an appointment, I waltzed into the nearest Super Cuts. All I wanted was a trim, but what I got was shear embarrassment.

This new/old natural hair is foreign to me, I’m still learning. But I expected the ladies at Super Cuts to have some experience with trimming thick (perhaps unruly) hair. I explained to the stylist that I was growing out my hair from a perm and this would be my first trim in several months. I admitted that I shouldn’t have waited so long for a trim, but “you know how it is…”

Ana refused to cut my hair wet, instead she complained about how bushy and thick it was. There’s no privacy in Super Cuts, so Ana had an intrigued audience as she struggle to get a brush through my hair and made heroic attempts to cut my hair.

I wear the hair. It doesn't wear me.

Finally, she declared that she had done all that she could and I would just have to come back another day when I had straightened my hair. That would make it easier to comb.

Right… You remember the part about growing out my perm, right?

Rather than giving Ana a tip in the form of a few choice words, I left Super Cuts asking myself if I really knew what I’d gotten myself into. Could I really handle caring for my natural hair? Why not just save myself the embarrassment and get back on the relaxer ticket?

After some encouragement from my husband, and more time to think, I realized that I could make it work – hatchet job and all. It’s not so much the hair, but it’s how you wear it.

I will burn Ana's business card in effigy.

Cut to Grow

No doubt the water pressure all around The Woodlands Sunday night the water pressure plunged significantly. In our household, loads of laundry and hair were washed in preparation for the first day of school.

Back-to-school means getting back into daily routines, including "fixin' hair." That's never been an event in our home heralded with smiles and laughter. Sunday night, things were better. We recently took Camille and Madeleine to have their hair trimmed and it made such a difference. Combing hair Sunday night was so much easier. Trimming the ends reduces tangling, I learned.

Ready for the new school year

This is something I actually learned last spring when Camille had her hair trimmed for the first time. It may seem surprising that I didn't know this, so I'll give you some background. I don't believe my hair was cut before I got bangs in the seventh grade, and even after that I might have gotten my ends trimmed once a year. It just wasn't something we did if you wanted your hair to grow. And long, flowing hair was consistently the goal at any cost, however unattainable!

My latest lesson on this natural hair journey has been sometimes in order to grow and appreciate something more, you have to cut the old, dead stuff. Maybe there's a lesson there for life in general as well.

Natural Hair in the Professional World

I should start out my clarifying that I have not EVEN gone totally natural. I'm in transition. But that doesn't stop me from being offended by the reactions and presuppositions people have to natural hair in the workplace.

Today's staff meeting was my new 'do debut for my teammates (there are only four of us, so a grand debut is not in the cards). I walk into the staff meeting and my boss says, "What did you do to your hair?"

"I'm trying something new," I quickly replied.

"Do you like it?" she asked, without missing a beat.

"I do," I replied blithely. "It feels more like me."

This exchange might have gone unnoticed to others in the room, but it was something I had been anticipating. My boss lady is a very corporate type in many ways. Nothing else about my appearance has changed since my first day of employment. I expected her to comment of my hair long before now. I've been growing my hair for a while, and many days I didn't know what to do with it. Bad hair days? I've had more than my share. Some days, honestly, I know my hair has looked a hot mess because I've been fighting an uphill battle alone: trying to go natural in the midst of summertime humidity without professional help.

The fact that she never commented on my hair during the last six or seven months tells me something: curls elicit a unique response from people. It made me wonder if you look like you're trying to conform to the norm, even unsuccessfully, does it still earn some respect? Some credibility?

Maybe curls are a statement that say, "I won't be suppressed!" As long as I was at least trying (however unsuccessfully) to straighten my hair, I was still sending a message that I accept that norms. I have no piercings or tattoos. Maybe because I've been so "mainstream" all my professional life, different reactions to my appearance seem so unsettling.

Curls -- messy curls -- defy the norm.

My Hair is My Legacy

Somewhere in an earlier post (as if I've written so many), I shared that, for me, the journey to natural hair was also a journey of self-acceptance. Learning to live with and love my natural beauty can't happen without it.

I won't contradict myself with this post, but I have to admit there are more important reasons I'm on this journey: three more important reasons, actually. These three reasons are learning the most important lessons in life right now. They're my daughters. Three little ladies. These little ladies with their curls. It's a parent's job to instill their children with confidence and a sense of pride. One day, I realized what I hypocrite I'd been, telling my daughters to be proud of their curls. All the while, I was having my hair straightened.

If you’re a parent you know children watch everything you say and see everything you do. It wasn’t the legacy I would want to leave with my children. The day I realized that I was lying to my daughters was the day I realized that I had to do things differently.

After I committed to this journey, my husband admitted to my that the girls all thought I had naturally straight hair.

"Hee haw!" That's the sound of the jackass I felt I'd been all these years! A royal jackass for lying to my daughters.

My eight year-old is still waiting for the day that I have curls that are as long and thick as hers. It will take some time, but I'm anticipating the day when I can be an example for my daughters.

WTF Am I Doing?

November 2010

Today at work, I ran across a photo of myself at an event I coordinated. My first thought was, "That's a nice smile. All that practicing in the mirror is finally starting to pay off."

My second thought was "And my hair looks really good in this picture too. Wait! WTF am I saying?! WTF am I doing letting my perm grow out?! ACK!!"

This was not a moment of doubt. After some thought, I realized that this was inertia trying to hold on.

Inertia is that little voice in your head that says, "Is spending four hours in the salon every six weeks that bad? Are the chemical burns on your scalp that bad?"

Inertia says, "Perming your hair is so convenient. So predictable. It's what we've always done. We like predictable!"

So far in my natural hair journey, I've focused on learning to appreciate my natural hair and to develop a new standard for beauty. Today it occurred to me that in this process, there might be bigger lessons to learn. Some might say, "It's just hair, for goodness sake. Who care? You're so vain." Today I was reminded of the power of inertia in my life. Maybe the hair is a sideline issue? Maybe there are greater lessons still to learn?

I hope!

But Why?

In my last post, I failed to mention an important point about the experience of trying and failing to straighten my hair before going out for a big event, and that is "why."

Why was straightening my hair even on my radar?

Because I was dressing up and wanted to look my best; I wanted to be glamourous.

Couldn't my natural texture be glamourous? Of course it can, but I wasn't being very present-minded that night. In this process of embracing my natural hair texture, each day I'm learning to reset my expectations. It's a process. Some days I take a step forward. Other days, I take a step backward!

Outgrowing My Old Tricks

Yesterday afternoon, I got dressed for one of my favorite events each year: the PRSA Houston Excalibur Awards Gala.

I had a dress I loved, cute shoes, loads of Stella & Dot jewelry to boot. Then it came time to do my hair. I'll get out my old hot rollers and curling iron and straighten my hair just for tonight. 

I wish I had a photo. Things didn't go well. My hair refused to be tamed by the heat. My hair is outgrowing my old tricks.

So here we are; at somewhat of an impasse my hair and I. My new growth wants to curl, but my old, permed hair is still hanging in there. I can't seem to successfully style either. The two do not agree. 

I ended up wearing my hair in a twist, which I am doing most days. But I'm getting tired of the in-between time. Is the big chop right around the corner?

How Long is Your Transition?

In the natural hair vernacular, the transition usually begins with a conscious decision to make a change for the better and stop relaxing your hair. The decision to transition is a milestone. Right?

A typical transition style for me -- a French twist.

Not in my case. My transition began haphazardly. My last relaxer was in December 2010. I travel a lot of work, and I forgot about an appointment I had schedule for a re-touch in February. I meant to reschedule, but one thing led to another (i.e. more work travel). The next thing I know, it’s been more than two months since my last perm. “Let’s see how this goes,” I thought to myself. It was the longest I’d gone without a retouch in some time.

My French twist from the back. Yes, I have pretty thick hair.!

At this point, it’s been six months since my last perm. I don’t have the nerve to do the “big chop.” The old, permed hair is something familiar, despite that fact that is it so unnatural. This is the hair I’ve known for more than 25 years.

Although I know the time will come, it’s hard to muster even more courage to chop.