A journey to cut my hair became a profound conversation with my ancestor-mother, revealing that our hair is never just hair—it's a healing ground for generational legacy, pride, and sovereign love.
For the past few weeks, I’ve been wrestling with my crown. My dreadlocks, my second set after chemotherapy claimed my first, felt heavy. I considered the scissors. I thought about the freedom of starting over.
But every time I envisioned the cut, a deep, ancestral ache would rise in my spirit. It was the memory of my mother, now an ancestor, and the look of devastation on her face whenever I cut my hair as a young woman.
Back then, I thought she was just obsessed with hair. I didn’t understand why my choice felt like a personal rejection to her.
Now, as a woman who has walked through the fire of life, death, and spiritual rebirth, I finally get it.
My mother wasn’t obsessed with hair. She was a custodian of a legacy.
In our community, our hair is a living, breathing tapestry. It is woven with stories of survival, of stolen combs and whispered affirmations, of Sunday morning detangling sessions that were about so much more than just hair. They were acts of defiance, love, and legacy-building.
When my mother spent hours pressing, and nurturing my hair, she was implanting a truth into my very being: "You are worthy of care. Your natural state is beautiful. This crown is your birthright."
My desire to cut my locs wasn't just about hair. It was a tipping point between the weight of my past and the call of my future. But Spirit, and the memory of my mother, guided me to a different answer: not to sever, but to heal.
I realized the most powerful act wasn't to release the crown, but to re-consecrate it.
The Ritual: Weaving Our Legacies Together
I now approach my hair care as a sacred ritual, a direct conversation with my mother and my lineage. I want to invite you to do the same, in whatever way feels right for you.
You will need: Your hair care tools, a moment of quiet, and an open heart.
1. Acknowledge the Legacy: Before you begin, speak to your ancestors. Light a candle if you feel called. Say their names. Acknowledge the hands that came before yours. "I see the work now. I honor the battles you fought with a comb and a prayer. I receive the pride you woven into this crown."
2. Anoint with Intention: As you apply your oils, creams, or treatments, do it with purpose. This isn't just moisturizing; it is an act of blessing. "With this oil, I anoint myself with strength. With this cream, I seal in resilience. I nurture what you nurtured."
3. Weave Your Story In: As you style, twist, or braid, pour your own testimony into your hair. "This section holds my survival. This twist holds my dreams. This braid holds the day I chose myself, unapologetically."
You are not just doing your hair. You are performing a living, generational healing.
You are merging your grandmother's prayers, your mother's pride, and your own hard-won sovereignty into a single, powerful crown. You are telling the little girl who was told her hair was "nappy" and "unmanageable" that she is a Queen.
So, to every melanated person reading this, I say: Your hair is your business. But know that when you touch it, you are touching a story that did not start with you.
You can choose to cut it as an act of liberation. Or you can choose to nurture it as an act of reconciliation.
Whatever you choose, let it be a sovereign decision. Let it be a choice that honors the journey, heals the lineage, and crowns the magnificent person you are today.
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