A wonderful letter from a vivacious woman.

One Year of Letters

11401479_1653256858223487_4586857982804264741_nI Am Not My Hair

I recently “big chopped” (cut all my hair off), and the experience has opened my eyes to both society’s expectations and the effect they’ve had on my own.

At thirteen years old my mom came to me with a suggestion. As I was extremely tender-headed, yet I wanted long hair, she suggested I get dreadlocks. Upon hearing I wouldn’t have to comb my hair and that it was guaranteed to grow like nobody’s business, I agreed. Fast forward seven and a half years and my hair hung past my waist, a glorious wave that I valued over all my other attributes. But my pride and patience were waning.

Along with the wonderful length and the interest it captivated, my hair was hot, heavy, and expensive to maintain. It had begun to hurt my back and neck, as dreadlocks often do after a certain amount of…

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