Sunday, May 26, 2013

The Hair Dilemma

I swear I'm going to get back to my baby and start blogging again. Writing is my passion. It is my love. It is not only what I'm good at, its what I'm great at. I'm funny, warm, charming, and charismatic as fuck. Man, I seriously I missed the feeling of opening up a new page and the excitement of knowing my topic, but not knowing my words and then the eventual beauty of reading back over my masterpiece. Fuck, I'm good at this. Anyway, off that rant, and on to my topic at hand- my hair.

I've had locs now for about 9 years. I originally started them because I was about to start school at Kennesaw and I needed something that would be less work than the cornrows and box braids I had been previously rocking. My hair reached a very plain length to the middle of my back about 3 years ago, when I decided to cut it above my shoulders.

Since then, my hair has grown back, but this time around, I'm a lot better at taking care of it. I've learned that when you've got long dread locs, you have to cut them into layers and a dab of hair color goes a long way. I'd be lying if I said that my hair was anything other than incredible. Seriously, I'm not just bragging. Aside from my writing, my hair is the one thing I managed to make look spectacular. And therein lies the problem.

I had a situation a few months back that shook me to my core. Its safe to say that it was a life changing situation. Since then I've decided to take a good long look at myself and my choices. I've had to completely leave some people alone, while others merely took a severe step back in their roles in my life. I also decided to take a major break from dating and sex. That's right, no nookie since February and although I told myself that my birthday would be when I'd open up the heavenly gates again, I see very little chance of anything happening for that to occur by next month, which will be my 33rd.

The crazy thing is that I'm okay without sex. I don't want it. I learned the hard way that sex leads to drama, lies, bullshit and other stuff that I just don't want or need anymore. My focus is myself, my son, grad school and my immediate search of happiness, money, and independence. I've decided that sex would need to take a major back seat and that any man that I make an acquaintance would have to be my friend first before anything could pop off between us. I've decided that to be fair, I let a man know up front that I've got no intentions of having sex.

One guy at the coffeehouse that I routinely go to once looked at my new figure that is now 30 lbs. lighter and suggested we hang one day. I looked him square in his eye and said that we could hang but that there'd be no nookie. He then told me that I'm simply depriving myself and told me a story of another female that made the mistake of telling him the same thing and then getting mad when he later rejected her. I just shrugged and told him that "irregardless" of the fact, I'm not fucking. He and I still see each other around, but he's made no mention of hanging out since. Which is more than cool with me.

That's some other shit dudes appear to be on. When I let some of my former flunkies know that I've given up the stick to focus on my goals, they all feel it necessary to tell me that I'm depriving myself. Man, penises really are stupid. I've gone through more than enough bullshit to know that penis has been my downfall and I don't want any of it. I don't want to be the main chick unless the dude is seriously pulling his weight, and I'm damn sure not playing the side chick anymore. And if that means that I've got to spend some time alone, making the other areas of my life phenomenal, that's just fine by me.

It's awesome to see how well so many of my friends and associates are doing. They're making money on their crafts, starting and running businesses and all kinds of other stuff. Other women are sick of the fucked up dudes they've been with forever and they're getting their shit together to dump their dead weight. I'm happy to see it around me because it helps me to focus on me. And now back to my hair- its a goddamn magnet for lust.

I've always been an outgoing woman, so meeting men has never been an issue for me. Its just that for the first time in my life, I'd like to fly under the radar of men. Don't get me wrong, I'm okay with a man talking to me, liking my personality, and wanting to meet up for lunch or coffee. What I get tired of is sitting in a coffeehouse, minding my business and looking up and realize that three different mofos are periodically staring at me. And among those three does not include the weird dude with Tourette's that always manages to find a goddamn empty seat right next to me. No seriously no matter what time of day or night I'm in there, dude always seems to find a seat right next to me and babbles incoherently to himself while staring at me. It was flattering at first, but now I'd just like to pepper spray him and walk back to my seat. I'm not sure but I think that management might have a bit of a problem with me doing that in the shop. *Mental note- find out if coffeehouse people are okay with me pepper spraying weird slow dude with Tourette's in front of everyone.*

I know its the freaking hair. Men stare at it, they ask about it, they want to touch it. The ask how long I've had the locs, they notice when I've dyed them, they frequently compliment them. I was riding down the street the other day when I slowed my car at a stop light in front of construction workers. I got the usual stares,did the usual "I'm being friendly and smiling and waving, but I'm really not interested in you" wave and smirk, when one of the dudes complimented my hair. I gave him a tight smile and then said "thank you." He then said "can I run my fingers through it?" What the hell?! I know I sound like a nut, but what the fuck do you want or need to touch my hair for?! I looked at him, shook my head lightly and said back to him "No. No, you cannot touch my hair." That was actually the second encounter I'd had that day regarding some dude outside of my car trying to holler at me while I was driving.

It happens when I walk randomly down the street. It happens when I post Facebook pictures. Men are absolutely obsessed with my hair. And I hate it. Like I said, I'm okay with a guy liking my personality and wanting to get to know me better. But I'm strangely uncomfortable with men lusting after my hair. For the first time in my life, I understand why Muslim women sometimes cover their hair, and conservative Christian women keep their hair tied up. I don't know what it is about the hair, but when it cascades down my back, men look at me like I'm a steak. I feel a tad more guarded when I meet men and its down. I'd considered cutting it, but I really don't want to. I'm considering Bantu knots or a few other styles that would allow me to cover it. I'd even thought of hats, but its way too freaking hot to keep all of this hair covered up.

Some days I also attribute it to the new look since I've slimmed down. So my now 5'8 170 lb frame, gets a lot more love and attention than it did at 200.
And of course with the weight loss came some shopping for new dresses. So sundresses plus locks halfway down a woman's back somehow becomes kryptonite to men. It know its kind of crazy, but as I work on myself, I've also learned to work on my appearance. I threw out a ton of old clothes, making way for new, fashionable, flirty, feminine and trendy looks. So I look and feel like a million bucks now. But the problem is that despite how banging I look, I want to be left alone. I want to be alone with my thoughts. I want to be alone while I write. I want to be completely alone until a man proves that he's finally worth my time. I want to fucking be alone. And the beautiful hair that I'd always wanted (and I finally have) seems to be the one thing in the way to keep that from happening.

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