Celebrating The Truest Me!

The holidays are soon upon us, and for me they bring a whole host of good memories. However my hair would beg to differ because for it, it meant torture. As a young girl my mother would whip out the trusty ole ironing comb, fire it up and press every lucious nap into submission. Afterwards she would gleefully tell me how pretty my hair looked and then warn me not to run  around sweating out her hard work. I hated sitting in that chair. Having my hair pressed, hearing the sizzling, smelling the heated hair mixed with pomade, and I especially hated the occasional accidental slip of the ironing comb. Which always seemed to land on a small part of the top of my ear.


Those days are far behind me, but I can't help but reminisce about how pretty I felt after the deed was done to my treasured kinks. I suppose much of what I felt was due to the affirmations coming from my mother. It's difficult for me to remember a time my mother told me how pretty my hair was in it's natural state. I guess all she was trying to do was encourage me to sit still long enough for the press to last until the family reunion was over, but in my little mind I took it as straight hair being prettier than my naturally textured hair.
      That feeling stayed with me well into my adulthood, but by then I graduated from the the pressing comb to a relaxer. (SMH) I would relax my hair at the first sign of new growth. The ritual of relaxing my hair every four weeks was not only a costly one it also was damaging. All throughout my late teens and tweenties my hair seemed to be unaffected by the harsh chemical treatments. By my thirties the signs of over processing was begining to reveal itself. By the age of thirty-two my hair wouldn't grow past my ears. By the age of thrity-five I was in the begining stages of hair loss at the crown of my head.


That was the wake up call I needed . No more relaxers for me. It was one of the hardest decisions I ever had to make. Nonetheless it was a crucial one. It was either continue to relax and hope for the best, or stop the madness. Needless to say I stopped cold turkey. And so began my journey into the world of natural. As I begin to enter into another holiday season, I gleefully enter into it with a head full of kinky, coily, spirals totally free and celebrating the truest me! Happy Holidays!


Angelic

Creator of AmadiNaturals™. Where being natural is not only accepted, it's celebrated.

Copyright © Amadi Naturals™ All Rights reserved 2010-2011