“BACK THEN WEEKENDS WERE FOR STRAIGHTENING MY HAIR, SPENDING HOURS IN THE BATHROOM MIRROR, COMBING AND PRESSING UNTIL EVERY KINK AND CURL WAS GONE.”
Sometimes when your heart is full and you can’t contain the love you have for yourself, you remind yourself that weekends used to be for straightening your hair. You would spend hours and hours at your bathroom mirror combing and pressing until every kink and curl was gone; until all that remained were long, straight strands of hair. For a while this was enough to you, you found peace on those straightened tresses. But after awhile those straighteners became the tools through which you conducted painstaking rituals. And often you would find yourself imagining what it would look like to abandon those straighteners; what it would be like to find peace elsewhere, peace in yourself. These days, weekends are for finding peace in your friends, your work , your God and yourself. You struggle to remember when those conversations with yourself – the ones where you would dare yourself to do away with those straighteners became your reality. Sometimes you indict yourself and those straighteners; you revise your history to read oppression instead of lesson, then you remember that this journey has not and never will be linear. Peace comes and goes.