My Hair

My crowning glory is my hair. So why do I hate it so at times. Because it is difficult to maintain, and the maintenance is expensive. I love my hair. It is thick, thick, thick, and black. It has never failed me as long as I have paid an adequate amount of attention to it. But whoa if I didn't pay attention to it. I would get a backlash that would be exhibited in tendrils similar to Medusa on my head.

My hair and its condition reflect how I feel about myself and the environment I find myself in. Should I have a good run of days such as no drama at work, money somewhat abundant, bills able to be paid, husband given' good lovin', children actin' right, my hair can usually be found bouncin' and behavin'. Should my environment turn stressful, such as having to work massive amounts of overtime, working a job that doesn't treat people equitably, the stress shows in my hair. The locks are a bit awry and dry, and not as conditioned because the stress manifest itself through the shafts of my hair. The stress is projected throughout the strands as they stand at attention and do not lay down sleekly. My usually supple strands have been sucked dry by stress.

I love my curly hair and its abundance. It is a friend that deserves to not be affected by stress. It is a crown that should be polished with shampoos and conditioner and styled with grace as it shows the world that the possessor of such strands cares about her inner-self and the adornment that tops off the temple that is her body. It deserves my respect and attention, and will be treated as such.