QUEENDOM

decided to wash my hair on a whim some days ago.

My fellow natural haired sisters can testify that wash day NEEDS to be penned into your schedule. It requires planning ahead, because you’ll most likely need a dedicated 2/3 hours pending your hair density, length, porosity et al. So in a way, I was setting myself up for failure.

I’m not sure what I was thinking, but I guess I was feeling Wonder Woman vibes…it is possible that I was still on a high from International Women’s day (yes, I know it was months ago!). But I guess all that inspiring talk about #girlpower and #thefutureisfemale got caught in the tangles of my hair, and stayed swirling in my head. Plus, with my senses being bombarded with images of strong female personalities, I think, wow! YUZZZ! I am that woman in the J. Howard Miller “We can do it” poster! Yes I affirm, I can do it!

By the 30 min mark, I was over it but I couldn’t exactly stop the process, because I was too far in. With a quarter of my hair untangled and the other looking relatively nesty, I looked at all the utensils (different sized combs, shampoo, conditioner, hair clips, oils et al) sprawled all over the bathroom— tub, counter top, sink, floor and I just about wailed. All of a sudden, I felt overwhelmed.

But… I said, “I can do it”!

So I pressed on, determined to finish strong! I definitely had to talk to myself a few times to keep my head in the game because above all else I wanted to be cozied up in my couch, binge watching an eclectic swirl of This is us, Love and hip hop ATL and House hunters international.

2.5 hours later I was done, and 30 mins later I had cleaned up my mess. So all in all about 3 hours. I felt so accomplished. But mind you, I hadn’t even ventured into the roundabout turns of bantu knots or flat twists, just good ol’ hair stretching. The joke of it all is, my hair isn’t even that long! So for a second I was thankful, because even though my heart desires that big, bad and boss fro – the kind that walks into the room before you do, in that moment I felt super content with my forever TWA (Teeny Weeny Afro) hair. Truly, God only gives us what we can handle. Hallelujah!

This is me without children (yet), and all the other competing things that will require my attention. Lord have mercy. I respect my mom so much more, because only now in my 30s am I starting to see what it means to be woman. The selflessness that comes with it. We birth nations and we feed them from the fountain of our breasts, we carry them on our hips, and when not lodged on our hips or backs, they tug on the hems of our clothing demanding our undivided attention. We form inconspicuous sounds, cooing to their delight just to keep the peace. We are the pacifiers, nestling their restlessness, tiredness, and tears in the softness of our bosom, close to our heart. No more wailing precious one, mama’s ears are still ringing from your loud cries a min ago!

We are nurturers, and are like the undertones that make up the unique scents, tastes and balance of aged wine.

We are builders, and full time jugglers. Handling our homes, jobs and businesses, while still slaying in the corridors of our own existence.

Such Queens we are. Queens.

I am honestly not sure how I went from hair to queen, but this unintentional turn helped me see in a new way the intricacies of God’s creation. Much is demanded from us as women in our everyday lives, and we get so caught up that we forget to appreciate our value. That we were made from the rib of a man does not make us weak or lesser. In fact, when you google the function of a rib, it pops up with an image of a rib cage, and lists its functions as protection and support. And further states that, it provides a strong framework onto which the muscles of the shoulder girdle, chest, upper abdomen and back can attach. 

Peep the value.

Peep the worth.

Ain’t God all shades of wonderful!

“She is clothed in strength and dignity, and she laughs without fear of the future” |Proverbs, 31:25|

Happy MonYAY 😘

xoxo

 

 

image: @ pinterest

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