My locs are deep to me.

We are not about to sing India.Arie and hold hands — I just had to get that out of the way my babies. I can’t remember if her music even shaped my perspective about my locs honestly. I remember having teachers with locs, specifically Malama Jackie and Malama Payne. I went to a middle school in Philadelphia named Imani (Swahili word meaning Faith) and my high school was named after Imhotep — very much an Afrikan Centered education. They both had black (somewhat grey) locs down their backs. I loved them both dearly. I had plenty of other teachers with locs as well throughout the years.

I don’t even think about (or count) the first time I started my loc journey because that love affair was short lived. I cut my hair back short, and went back to living as usual. Started again. Stopped. I know my locs must’ve said “Girl, you have commitment issues!” and to that I just smirk and let it go. I do consider this time around my favorite and final space of loving my locs.

Believe it or not, an old lover put me onto the Philadlephia shop Twist N’ Sistas and my hairdresser and I have been tight for about 3 1/2 years now. Yes, hairdresser. We check-in on each other, we are aware of when we need space, and we have truly built a bond. I know nothing of the shortcomings and nonsense of the beautician world these days and for that I’m grateful. My locs have gotten me through a transformation of sorts, but not the one the holistic folx speak of. My transformation started as a love story to what it felt like to love my natural hair, then it became unbearable and sad like the breakup(s) I went through, rough and tired like the trauma I had known, frustrating like the life I was trying to reach, and sorry like the friends I would try to keep around.

In every instance, my locs had patience and held me like my granny’s prayers. I wished for a love like this. One that would stay put, one that would grow alongside me in every moment. That’s a different kind of love and every time I would get a retwist or color change — I met myself deeper and better than before. So, why the thank you now? This is long overdue to be honest. To my beautiful, long, luscious, sexy, rough, untamed, sometimes retwisted and styled locs, I give you all the thanks and love you deserve for sticking it out with me. I sometimes feel like my locs deserve a dinner date and night out, that’s the way I feel about their growth, so is that the way I should feel about myself too?

I was thinking about this when I was in the shower the other day. It takes poetry and work to run my hard working hands through my wild new growth and gently wash my locs. I rather pay for the service because I want the pamper. I want the moment where my hands are free to scroll, roam. Is this the process of washing myself clean? Meeting myself? I always, all ways consider God in everything I do, everything I am, but hair of wool and skin of bronze takes on a new meaning now. I am drawn back into memory of Easter Sunday in my granny’s kitchen with that hot comb and damn blue magic. My God the smell even comes back.

My past self looks at my present self like “Damn they long as shit bitch!” My future self is probably like “They look good but you could do a bun for the engagement party hoe!” I can’t imagine my locs not being by my side at this point in my life, but I won’t be the same person I am at this moment. To be fair, in the time it takes you to read this, I’ve already changed again.

I imagine my locs having the personality of Issa Dee’s “Mirror Bitch” x (Insecure on HBO)

Thank you to every version of myself that is present and has been. I am beyond grateful for what you have taught me, left me with. I also must say that seeing locs all my life gave me a new perspective on how to carry my head high and how to honor my crown. My locs are an outward expression of love to myself, to collective care, and to the ancestors I embody.

That within itself is very very deep to me.

I don’t want a system telling me my locs are an issue.

Telling the young people to change their being.

I want for them the same experience of patience, growth, love, and freedom through knowing their locs.

Through knowing themselves.

With love,

Thank you.

I’m really just a baddie with a million personalities. (If you’re in Philadelphia and need a salon, click the link in the picture.) 🌱