I feel like writing

Its funny that I don’t have anything specific in mind. I’m just going to begin typing and see what comes out.

Dance. I joined a contemporary class and its challenging. If I walk into class with heaviness in my heart it shows up in my movements and in my patience with my progress. Last class I was pissed. The instructor was moving too fast and I didn’t remember much as I was expected to run through with a group of two- the other two in my line.

I was irritated. I didn’t remember. I needed more time. I wasn’t ready and I hadn’t mastered these moves, so why on Earth would I want to “run through it with my line”? I struggled through after two suggestions to “feel the movement” and do what I could remember. Still sounds absurd, but I’m trying to apply that to life.


  1. Feel- be in the moment.
  2. Cast off the concern of perfection.






One day I’ll get there. I’ll dance like no one is watching. Like the steps are mine to create. Like each movement is perfect without rehearsal. And until then…I’ll check the mirror but look at it less. More feeling, less thinking. More in the moment, less planning. More living, less analyzing my life.

Starting now.



“You change your hair everyday”. False, but I understand that I do maximize the freedom and creativity my coils provide me with- I can switch thing us quickly. In fact, I’m headed to the states soon and I plan to purchase hair and stuff it in my luggage. Braiding hair, Marley twist hair, a latch hook, widely misrepresented as a “crochet hook”, and few hair ties, curl formers, and bobby pins. Whew! Thats a lot- I might need gel, too. We shall see.

Anyway…this post is a confession. A few days ago I resented and was ashamed of my natural hair:

it shrinks

it requires constant care

it falls out when “protective” styles are taken down- although I hear this is typical, it hurts my soul seeing the collection of coils looking like a lambs wool along my shower, counter, and sink.

I had to take out my last style a little early. I can’t have my fake hair looking nappier than my natural curls. So…I was faced with a decision, wig and switch (cause its hot) or natural hair. I focused on potential reactions and if my wig laying didn’t require braiding, which is time consuming and sometimes hurts AND my wigs weren’t blonde and black/red (hella bold), I probably would have rocked them. Instead, I did a wash and go and today a bomb twist out.


But thats only after contemplating:





and….wait for it…


My coils LITERALLY WILL NOT stay straight enough to showcase my length and this makes me look and feel different than I want to. I look more less conventionally beautiful. No big hair to wear as a crown. I feel more naked and exposed, less masked and “protected”. I’m just being honest.

I named my hair some years ago and Shea has to be offended that I’ve spent more time with her clothes than with her. So she’s been free for a few days now and we are relearning one another. Last night twisting wasn’t so bad. And I found out she HAS grown, she’s ACTUALLY REALLY TALL…she just wears flats that hide her long legs. I am falling back in love with my coils one moisturized twist out at a time.

“You change your hair everyday”. No.

You Change. Your hair everyday.



I hate being told to or asked to smile. Its annoying. And its unnatural to force a smile. I am content. And happy. And pleasant. And I show my emotions when I feel necessary. I don’t smile 24/7. And I certainly don’t smile more simply because I’m asked to – so stop.

Stop asking.