Mama Bunkfish

Navigating marriage, motherhood, and mental illness on Jesus, caffeine, and naps!

Long Hair, Don’t Care

I know you’re totally confused right now. If you’ve seen any pictures of me in the last 14 years you know that my hair is anything but long. I have recently however started letting it ‘grow out’ but my husband’s hair is often still longer than mine.

When I was growing up I was one of the girls who got a relaxer at a young age. I would sweat like a beast after that press-and-curl and since I was born in the ’80s, before ‘natural’ became a movement, that Dark and Lovely relaxer was my best friend. Throughout my preteen and teen years I rocked numerous hair styles. From weave ponytails to Dooky (now known as box braids), every time my stylist (My aunt Lisa) did my hair there was always something new.

At about 21 I developed a really bad scalp condition and had to cut all my hair off to treat it. I had been toying with the idea after seeing Jada Pinkett-Smith in ‘Jason’s Lyric’ and decided I could pull it off. Though my hair looked nothing like hers I fell in love with my short, quick and easy hairdo and it stuck.

Then 9 years later I got pregnant…with a girl. I was happy and anxious all at the same time. I had no idea how I was going to take care of her hair and I most certainly wasn’t going to be combing it (I actually said that…several times). Thankfully she was born with a mane of curly hair like her Daddy’s so it was easy to manage. It was at that point I decided to remove the phrases ‘Good Hair’ and ‘Bad Hair’ from my vernacular; I didn’t want my sweet girl growing up worried about a bunch of strands growing out of the top of her head. Thankfully my aunt was still in the braiding and styling business and she has kept Josephine properly styled for the last five years.

As I sat unbraiding her hair last night, preparing it to be done up again today, I realized that I HAVE to keep reminding her that although I always want her to look neat and tidy…it’s just hair and it’s HER hair. Nobody gets to talk bad about her hair,  tell her she shouldn’t relax it, let it go natural, dye it pink, shave it all off, or whatever, because it’s HER hair.

My other aunt, Ruby, starts chemo and radiation in two weeks and decided to chop off all of her hair just in case. Because after all…it’s just hair.

Until next time…

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