Skip to main content

On Womanhood & Shaving My Head



I think women hide behind hair. We have been taught that our hair is our crown. I think that's part of the reason why I began cutting my hair when I was 12, and why I recently went bald. I never quite believed that my hair was my crown. I never believed that my hair length or style determined my femininity (or the lack thereof). I never believed that wearing jewelry made me more of a woman. I never believed that makeup and overdrawn eyebrows determined my beauty. Since cutting my hair off, some people have made it their job to remind me to wear earrings so that I "look more like a 'lady'" or to make sure my makeup is on point at ALL times, as if those things define me, my beauty, and/or my womanhood.

I never cared much for the opinions of others and I can be a bit crass and nonchalant when it comes to displaying my lack of affection for another's opinion of me. Because I'm a performer, I've been living for other people (onstage) my entire life. I've been painting my face for the spectators since my first dance recital at 3 years old. So, if I decide walk out of my apartment with my BALD head AND with NO makeup or earrings on, trust that I am more than comfortable with my beauty, my womanhood, my sexuality, my spirituality, and how others may perceive those aspects of me.

I learned at a young age that my hair had nothing to do with my crown, that the two are not synonymous, and that my royalty is more connected to my soul, and not the hair follicles sprouting out of the desert that is my scalp.

Come to think of it, even as a young girl, some people who 'loved' me would always say and do things to try to manipulate my budding womanhood. "Maybe you should wear perfume now that you're a woman." "You need eyeliner." "You should wear more feminine hairstyles for basketball games so you won't look like a dike." In retrospect, it's comical; but I grew accustomed to the disrespect--the trashing of MY womanhood which didn't look like anyone else's. Shaving my head has brought me back to those moments, but I'm wiser now. I feel the earth more vigorously, now. In losing my "crown," I gained the most in-depth self-love that I have ever known. That's true victory; I am still royalty. I am still woman. I am ever-evolving, hair and all, and I am to be continued.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

"We Thought You'd Be Next." πŸ’πŸ‘°πŸΎπŸ€ͺ

Recently, my little brother got engaged. πŸŽ‰ But can I just say, Hashtag Triggered?! πŸ˜‘
I was very thrilled that he finally proposed to his now fiance and that I absolutely love her. She is so sweet and brings goodness into his world. I'm so excited for them. However, during my last trip home to New Orleans, a family member was chatting with me about it and asked about my relationship, and then proceeded to say,
"I thought you'd be next." 😣
B*TCH, ME TOO! DAMN!
I did not say this aloud as I was in my father's house (#shondo #imchurchy), but everything in my body tensed up. Every hair stood up on my boiling skin and my heart began palpitating as I attempted to calmly explain why I wouldn't "be next" while simultaneously trying not to burst into tears in front of company. I started rambling about my burgeoning career--about "our" careers--and attempting to refocus the conversation while wanting to jump into the large pot of red beans simmer…

Hey Stalkers!

I was talking to a person I (used to) know--this estranged acquaintance of mine--who said that they have friends who screenshot segments from my blog and social media postings and send them to this person. I thought, "hmmm, I wonder who the mole is?" But also, I wonder who has that kind of time to (not) follow someone on social media but to stalk them and pull pieces from their writings, out of context, and send them to someone who clearly has a fractured relationship with me. Like, with that kind of time, I could sleep an extra hour or two every day! But I digress.

I welcome all to my very public blog and social media pages. I don't share anything that I don't wanna share. In fact, I keep much of my life very private, for my safety and sanity. I write my story because it's healing--because it's freeing. I open the world to some of the most intimate moments of my life because I know that vulnerability is contagious--that transformation is not to be hoarded b…

How My Mom Made Me A Preacher

When I was a kid, I used to travel with my mom to Toastmasters conferences. I went to Baton Rouge, Lafeyette, Atlanta, DC, Florida, down the street from the house, up the street from her job, everywhere. I heard some of the world's greatest speakers. I sat in many executive meetings (because my mom didn't wanna leave me in hotel rooms by myself...she watches too much Law and Order) and I behaved quietly, pretending to doodle but really eavesdropping on conversations regarding new judging procedures and managing  leadership conflict (yes, grown people cat-fightπŸ™€). I was present for speaking competitions that my mother judged, training seminars that my mother presented, and galas that I attended with my mother as her young, but show-stealingly adorable, date.πŸ‘§πŸ½
And of course, my mother took Toastmasters home with her. Whenever I had to speak in church or prepare a speech for class, she mentored me. She made sure I had a bomb πŸ’£acronym (she's obsessed with corny acronyms)…