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Going back to my roots

Going back to my roots

Going back to my hard, black roots, my thick, course roots,

My roots that trail back to ancestral shame yet honor,

A history that’s not so smooth but rich, powerful and strong,

I grew up with my hair in the wind, running and playing all day

Not caring a thing, face full of giggles, dress covered in clay

And it was someone else’s job to comb my nappy head,

Mama would be the one to pull out the pony tails just before I went into bed,

It wasn’t a surprise, when mama started to iron and flatten my hair,

With hot combs and hot grease, to put my hair all up in one,

And I happily thought the hair beauty battle was won,

But then came perm, relaxers and such things,

And for some years I felt secure emulating TV hairstyles and beings,

And then,  I became unsure of my true identity, who was I suppose to be?

my hair  started to break, got dry and brittle

Wasn’t always falling in place, felt thin and trickle,

Then came the need to relax every month or so,

Or else my kinky roots would eventually show, and for years I did,

I weaved, braided, even wore a wig,

Don’t get me wrong, these hairstyles are not bad or wrong,

But I’m talking of me, and of the day that I decided to go back natural,

That day I embraced my kinky curls and waves,

I felt a certain level of freedom and beauty like I once did,

Back in the day when I was a kid,

Yes, there are days my hair gets burdensome and wild

It’s Course and rough ,but I take pride in knowing I grew this, it’s all mine  of course!

Written by Laurna Guiste

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2 thoughts on “Going back to my roots”

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