It’s been four years of consistently sticking to my guns about a decision I made from a place of extreme life fatigue. If you know me, you know my family and friends are heavily involved in my life, so when I announced that I was getting locs, nearly everyone supported me. I say nearly because some people genuinely looked at me with so much concern which was understandable lool. Then came the day of my starter-loc appointment; I got back and sent everyone a picture. They ALL laughed at me. To be completely honest, I laughed at myself too. Mostly because, at the time, it didn’t make any sense: starter boneless locs are the ghetto! They look like good old regular twist outs.
Fast forward to now, and those exact same people will not let me rest with messages about how beautiful my hair is. Every single one of them seems to have forgotten how I started, but I haven’t. How could I possibly forget? For months on end, I wore a durag simply because my hair didn’t “fit the occasion.” On the days I simply couldn’t get it right, I would succumb to wearing a wig, which completely felt like it defeated the entire purpose of getting locs in the first place. It was absolute hell before it ever came close to being rosy. So many days when my hair refused to be tamed to the glossy images I envisioned in my head prior to my appointment.
Why am I telling this story? Because while my hair is beautiful now (actually, it’s always been beautiful ☺️), I had to survive a very awkward stage that the people cheering for me today have conveniently forgotten. My seeds didn’t sprout overnight. I have toiled over my own roots with my bare hands, and I have come face to face with disappointment many times when I couldn’t reap results sooner than I imagined. Even now, in my bloom season, the struggle hasn’t magically disappeared; experience has simply helped me manage it better. It is so easy for comparison to steal your joy if you let it. Too easy. I cannot underestimate the importance of staying blind to the sidelines, sticking to your own journey, and watching where it takes you.
The messy starter phase is the tax we pay for the flourishing we desire later. So if you are currently sitting in your own version of the awkward middle, whether it’s a new career, a creative goal, or just figuring yourself out, remember to put your face to the sun. Trust the ugly stage. The results are definitely worth the wait.
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