THE LOCS ARE BORN!

We started on December 5. 2008. Here I am right before I left for my installation. I started with about 2 inches of natural hair and 7-8 inches of relaxed ends.

We sat for 8 hours the first day, 10 hours the second day and 7 hours the final day. The process was long, but 25 hours later I was an official member of the sisterlock family.

I stood an inspected the finished product. It definitely was... different. I remember standing in the mirror and thinking "What have I done?" Then I remembered the countless blogs I had read from others that felt the same way. I kept telling myself that things would get better and to just be patient.

MY POOR HAIRLINE!

...unfortunately, by the time I got home that night, I was convinced I had made a mistake. My hairline started at my ears! I never left the house without bangs and now my forehead was just smiling at everyone. What was I thinking? My hair didn't remotely look like the ladies I had seen in the pictures. I was devastated. Inspecting my hairline became a daily habit, and I felt like my hair would never grow in. Thankfully, I was wrong. It took some time, but eventually, the love/hate relationship I had with my locs started moving more towards love. It was a long journey though...

YES I CAN!!

After my diagnosis, I knew I would never return to the "creamy crack". It had already been about 8 weeks since my last "texlax" and I was already tired of 4 hour self-roller setting sessions so I turned to "fake hair". Here are a few of the wigs I wore as I contemplated how I was going to survive going natural.

Short and Chic (the Bob) Long and Layered Soft Waves

Though these looks were "cute", I constantly fought an inner battle because I felt fake. Though artifical hair was accepted throughout the African American community, it never felt quite right for me.

Around this time, I started researching natural hair styles and stumbled across the Sisterlocks website. I marveled at Dr. Cornwell's length. This seemed like a good alternative. I had several friends with traditional locs, but never felt like I could go that route with my job. The pharmaceutical industry was brutal, superficial, and conservative--hardly the place to make a statement with my hair. So I started reading every website, article and book I could get my hands on about Sisterlocks. I ordered the journal and turned the pages in awe. This style was absolutley beautiful, and I could start them without cutting my relaxed ends off. All I had to do was make an appointment for a consultation...

For some reason I was terrified. What would people think? How would my hair look? I already had thin hair, so how much of a "plucked chicken" would I look like when I got them? What if I didn't like them? Questions, questions and more questions echoed in my mind. Was I ready for the psychological effects of wearing my natural hair? It took months of me going back and forth before I made my decision. However, a visit to a politcal rally (the last night Senator Barack Obama was a Senator!!) helped me make my decision.

I had almost convinced myself that I was ready for the Sisterlocks. I was sick of wearing wigs and fighting with my natural (more accurately dual textured) hair. Novemnber 3, 2008 was my turning point. I had spent all morning going door-to-door in support of Barack Obama.

After a rather busy morning, I looked in the mirror in disgust at the wig I was wearing. I knew I had to make a final decision about my hair. I had not worn it "straight" in months because I didn't have the enery to roller set it. I didn't have the time to sit in a salon for hours to get it professionally roller set, and I wasn't in the mood to fight the "you need a relaxer" battle. I opted to head to the Dominican Salon to have my hair blown out. Maybe I wasn't ready to take the natural plunge. Maybe if I saw my hair straight again, I would fall in love with it and decide not to get locked.

I went to the salon, sat in the chair, took off my wig and waited for the stylist to judge me. She didn't say a word. Unlike other stylists, she didn't seem bothered by my dual textured hair. Rather, she proceeded to subject my thin, fine, fragile hair to the metamorphosis. I sat in horror as she pulled the round brush through my hair and watched the smoke come out of he blow dryer. I could smell my hair burning. I almost cried when after that torture (I think she burned my scalp around the edges trying to straighten them) she still flat ironed my hair. Above is the final result. She looked so proud when she gave me the hand mirror to inspect her work. I felt like crying. I actually did cry on the way home. I looked at my straight hair. I did a few white girl tosses, and ran my fingers through it. Several broken hairs stuck to my palms and the car seat. I felt like I had betrayed myself. Why did I go through so much pain to alter my hair? If it was intended for my hair to be straight, it would be straight. Obviously, this was not for me.

I should have checked the weather forecast for that day! I walked out of the Dominican Salon with my faux straight hair swining in the wind and headed to the Obama rally. As we waited for the buses, the rain began to fall, and I did not have an umbrella. Within moments, my blow out blew away! By the time my bus arrived, I looked a hot mess!

As the rain continued to fall, my hair started to smell. The only way to describe the scent is "burnt". I felt ashamed. That was only heightened when a white gentlemen standing behind me in line asked his wife if she smelled something like "a tanning bed burning"... As I got on the bus, I knew that was it. It was time for me to make a change. Notice how anhappy I looked when I arrived at the rally. $75 had been totally wasted.

There is a blur in each of these photos. That was the closest I could get to who would soon be President Barack Obama. I listened in awe as he spoke that night. His grandmother had died earlier that morning, yet he found strength to continue his quest to become President. I looked around me at the different demographics represented at this crowded rally. I marvelled at Obama's ability to "beat the odds" and bring together a nation. Suddenly, I wasn't afraid to change. As I stood in the crowd with my Obama For President hat on, I wondered what it would be like to stand in the rain and not worry about my hair anymore. I wondered what it would be like to stand as an individual-to represent who I truly was and be proud of how I was "fearfully and wonderfully made". There were no more questions for me. It was time to make my consultation appointment.

OBAMA BECOMES 44TH PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES

I had a corporate meeting the very next day, and had to be up early to take an exam. Tensions ran deep at dinner that night as we watched the election coverage. I felt handcuffed and stifled. Showing my support for Obama as the only African American in the company would surely be a CLM (career limiting move), so I quietly disappeared during dessert to watch the coverage in private. I remember the tears running down my face as they announced that Senator Barack Obama had won the 2008 election. I remembered the story my grandmother shared with me when I was a little girl about the scar on her upper left thigh from where she had been knocked over by the spray of a water hose for sitting at an all white lunch counter in the Jim Crowe south. I felt proud. I felt honored, and I knew then that things for me would change as well. YES I CAN!

The Diagnosis

LUPUS... The word kept repeating itself over and over in my head. I sat in the office of the Rhematologist completely horrified by his diagnosis. Suddenly things made sense...the fatigue, the weak immune system, the constant ache in my knees and elbows, always being cold, the random brusing... And to think, the entire time I thought it was simply a matter of me getting old!

At first, I didn't know how to react. I had heard of the disease and knew some people that had it, but I couldn't come to grips with the fact that I had a chronic, auto-immune disorder. I cried. I got angry. I had a pity party, but then I realized that in life there are many bumps in the road, and this was simply one of life's challenges. I had been overcoming obstacles since birth (at 28 weeks), so why should this be any different? I started researching the disease as well as herbal alternatives to the drugs and steroids used to treat it. Suddenly, things didn't look so bad. Finally, I decided to treat this like any of the other bumps in the road I had overcome so far. Learn about it, then BEAT IT!!

Lupus: a chronic inflammatory disease that can affect various parts of the body, especially the skin, joints, blood and kidneys.

Hair Loss: Hair loss can occur for other reasons besides scarring on the scalp. Severe systemic lupus may cause a temporary pattern of hair loss that is then replaced by new hair growth. A severe lupus flare can result in fragile hair that breaks easily. Such broken hairs at the edge of your scalp give a characteristic ragged appearance termed "lupus hair.

Another up-side to the diagnosis was the fact that I now knew why my hair was falling out. Though my doctor never said NOT to continue relaxing, he explained that it was "highly discouraged". My decision was made. No more relaxing, texlaxing or chemicals. I had to make a decision for my health. Thus... the true journey to sisterlocks began.

For more information about Lupus, visit the following website:

www.lupus.org

Denial... Pre-Lock Styles

As my hair continued to thin and break off, I began researching hair growth options and embarked on a journey to get it to grow back.

I discovered an incredible online forum (Long Hair Care Forum) which educated me on how to properly care for my hair, and though I had some success growing my hair LONG, it still continued to thin terribly and come out in clumps.

Step 1: Stop relaxing so frequently. Since my 13th birthday, I had been addicted to the "creamy crack" also known as relaxers. As you can see from my texture shot, a super strength relaxer every six weeks was probably not the ideal choice. Nevertheless, I continued this practice for years, and it took me a long time to get used to "stretching". However, after successfully completing a six month stretch, I recognized two things: My hair really wasn't as "Nappy" as I thought it was, and I was in love with my natural texture!

Step 2: Protect the ends. Following are some of the many "protective styles" I used during my journey to locks. This was during my first six month stretch. I had no idea I was doing more damage to my fragile hairline with the cornrows, but it was pretty and maintenance free. I kept this style for about 4 months (gasp!) Sidenote: This pic was taken during my baby brother's graduation from boot camp. I love that sailor!

The braids obviously ended up being a not-so-protective style as it caused even more breakage and thinning at the sides. Notice how you can see my neck through the hair. Truly devastating...

PIN UPS, AND ROLLER SETS, AND UP DO'S...OH MY!

From that point, I embarked on a journey to protect my ends through roller sets, buns, phony ponys, you name it. The only good thing that came out of the entire experience was that my love for my natural hair texture started to grow. By this time, I had started "texlaxing" which is basically a fancy word for using a lower strength relaxer and leaving it on for a shorter period of time. This practice gave the illusion of thickness, but whenever I came into contact with water or humidity... CHIA PET!

These are some of the "Up Do's" I wore in an effort to protect my ends. Sometimes I would wear a plastic cap under the "phony ponies" and buns to keep my hair moisturized. I even used GEL to make those natural short pieces behave themselves! Notice the progressive damage to my hairline over time.

When I got tired of pinning up, I would roller set or wear a "twist out". Though this was a healthier alternative, the slightest bit of moisture (rain or humidity) would cause my hair to "go back" to its texlaxed state.

Finally, when I just couldn't take it anymore, there was always the ever-so-unhealthy Dominican Blowout. Though the results were pretty, my hair was ridiculously thin and the heat from the blow dryer was unbearable at times. During this entire time, I struggled with my decision to go natural. However, a medical diagnosis and an experience with Senator Barack Obama helped me make the decision to go natural.

I'M BAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!

Wow how time flies! I can't believe its been MONTHS since I posted last. Anywho... I wanted to continue sharing my journey in hopes of inspiring someone...