On Selling My Soul...

I sat nervously in the salon chair waiting to be helped. I seemed to be reading every other word of my book, looking away every few seconds to check and see nothing in particular. I could still back out...nothing had been done yet. But I rationalized that after combing through my thick mess of kinky curls that morning in the shower, seeing the hair appointment through was the least I could do. Besides..I was bored. Bored with my hair and ready for a change. Yes, natural hair is the best hair-choice, yes it looks hot (on me at least), yes I received hoards of compliments from women who said they didn't have the ovaries to do the big chop and go nappy...but I had seen and sufficiently conquered. I missed headbands. I missed fedoras. I missed having fingers run through my hair and wind for that matter. So when Deborah, the stylist walked over and stuck her thick fingers into my jungle coif and asked me if I was sure I wanted to relax it...I said yes with all the fake determination I could muster. Like so many good decisions I've made in my life...this one was made with shaky hands.



There is something about hair that holds so much power over your spirit. A new hair cut to me is as transforming as moving a few pieces of furniture around or trying a new concealer. The smallest detail and suddenly your a whole new you. We humans are simple, I suppose. Although the power of change is within us whenever we choose to summon it, we seem to prefer visual starting points and ending points. We have a thousand first days of the rest of our lives.



In that sense, the "press n curl" came at just the right moment. I had (once again) made a decision no one expected. I decided to stay in Houston...at least for a little while longer. Long enough to get enough air in my lungs to breathe and enough space around my head to let my congested thoughts spread out a bit. Space was the common theme. After it was all over, I looked in the mirror so closely, it was as if I was trying to look directly into my own head. I just wanted to see my roots again, now smooth and shiny. I ran my fingers through my hair and let it fall back around my face. My hair breathed, then I breathed and I felt justified in my little crime.