Hair has always been an issue with me. I didn't like it when I was a child. I didn't like it especially when it rained and it got all frizzy. As an adult I had my hair relaxed and once I started, I never went without it being relaxed but for three times when I cut it so short there was not much there. I don't remember if that solved my problem of liking my hair or not. I grew up in a family where hair and the shade of your skin determined your acceptance and level of beauty. My grandmother called my mother's hair and my brother's hair” Jesus grass” because it was straight like hers, hair that didn't need any relaxing and hair that didn't frizz in the rain. My playmates in the neighborhood referred to hair that frizzes as "going back". It was not a good thing. On the other hand some of them said I had “good hair” yet classmates at school continually asked me about my curly hair.
While I always thought I didn't have "good hair" my friends as an adult, my white friends and ultimately my own mother always thought my hair was good because it was thick, curly and capable of being styled to whatever was the in look except when the Twiggy look was in.. To them “good” was hair that had body and hair that could be curled or was naturally curly. .
I spent more time comparing myself to others and of course doing that I never came out okay. Comparing others is a form of judgment and when you judge others you are never right. In fact, you are always on the side of error. Seeing others and measuring their worth based on their hair and color of their skin kept me from achieving a lot of things early in my adult life. Not feeling okay about who I was found me standing still waiting for approval instead of moving forward creating the life I wanted. I've achieved a lot in life just later when I learned to love and accept who I really was, a divine being having a human experience.
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