There's a Squirrel on my Head. (So Not Blissful)

You get the idea. (Photo courtesy of thirstyroots.com)

I couldn't comb my hair last week. It was so rough and crucial, dear reader. My scalp felt like the roots had come in with guns blazing and crazy demands for money and a plane to Meixco. It was serious. I told a friend one evening that I felt like there was a squirrel attached to my head. My hair was dry, brittle, the whole awful nine yards. And when I would try to comb it, I whimpered like my former 10-year old, tender-headed self, ouching repeatedly until I decided to stick a headband on the squirrel and throw the comb/brush across the room.

Sure, I've been going to natural websites since I started deliberating over the decision. But truthfully, I wasn't really absorbing what I was reading/learning. What was I doing then, you wonder? I was gazing at the photos of the lovely naturalistas on the page, imagining the day when my hair would burst forth in its naturally curly mane and glory. Essentially going from A to Z in 60 seconds without acknowledging all the letters that must come in between. But eventually, the Squirrel on my Head made the truth very clear: blissfully deciding and declaring that I was transitioning back to natural was one thing. Figuring out all the things I needed to know to effectively take care of my hair while it undergoes its re-metamorphosis was entirely another. It was time to buckle down. So I've been:

• Googling like crazy. Google and I are engaged to be married, we're that close now. 
• Going to websites that cater specifically to the process I'm going through and making notes.
• Learning to understand the nature of my hair as it is now and working with it accordingly.
• Understanding that the term itself, transition, is telling me that nothing will happen overnight. Visions of waking up with said glorious, curly mane would simply have to go.

I'll admit it: it's been a tad overwhelming. Co-washing and lines of demarcation and sealing and deep conditioning and two textures and on and on and on...

But I welcome it!

Because quite honestly, and this isn't an excuse but a simple fact: all those years of relaxing breeded a sense of dependence. I depended on stylists to take care of my hair. I depended on scrunchies to pull my hair into a ponytail in between relaxing my hair. I depended on friends to give me tips on what to do with my hair. Never did I take responsibility for the strands coming out of my own head. It was all very complacent.

Until now. Purging the past, taking charge of the present. Is hair really all that serious, someone may ask? If you have to ask, then I don't really need to answer.

Interesting stop on the journey so far, huh? 

(Oh, and there's no longer a squirrel on my head. Stay tuned for the visual update...)

Blissfully Yours,
MissMondayD