I Remember the Moment

I remember the moment I fell in love with myself.

I had my weave on, and for those of you who don’t know, a weave is a word for tracks of hair sewn on to the existing hair on someone’s head. In my case, my weave consisted of several tracks of hair sewn onto the two inches of growth that I was able to have on the sides and back of my head, and then a closure on the top, which is basically a hair piece, like a toupee, where I am not able to grow any hair at all. I was home alone, witchin’ in the kitchen as I like to say. Candles lit, music blaring, hips swinging, spoon stirring. I was making myself some high vibe food and I was feeling pretty high vibe myself. My spirits SOARING, I marveled at the energy that I had been feeling for a couple of months. I felt a sexuality that I thought had been lost forever surging through my veins, my bones, my tissues. I felt alive in every cell. I felt like an exotic creature. I felt confident. I felt electric. I felt MAGICKAL. I marveled at how this “tool”, this simple weave, had facilitated so much transformation in the way I felt about myself. I loved having the absurdly long hair. I loved waking up in the morning with it. I loved being able to style it and wash it and blow dry it on my head. Most of all I loved that I was blending right in everywhere I went. I could stand out if I wanted to, but only if I tried. After walking around with my head shaved for three years it was refreshing not to be forced into conversations about why my head was bare every time I left my house.  My energy wasn’t all being funneled into supporting my confidence to move about the world with no hair. My nervous system felt soothed because I could concentrate on healing other wounds. Spoon in hand, I grinned from ear to ear. My soul was LIT UP. I laughed. I was FREE.

And suddenly like a puff of smoke, the bald woman beneath the ruse popped into my mind’s eye. As if she stood right before me in our kitchen,I saw clearly the face and the head of the person that I had come to be over the past three years. I saw the face of a woman who navigated through all the solutions of her hair loss. I saw the face of a woman who pulled out all the stops to come home to herself, despite it being difficult. I saw the face of a woman who wondered whether she would ever feel comfortable in her skin, who questioned whether she wanted to live in this skin at all. I saw the face of a woman who felt like she had died so many times that she couldn’t even keep up with who she was supposed to be. I saw the face of a woman who walked trial by trial with her head held high despite her desperate sadness and a chasm of grief within her.

I dropped my spoon into the boiling pot on the stove. I fell to my knees and my body shook with sobs. I cried to her, “My goddess, you are brave. You are wonderful. You are beautiful. Thank you for existing. Thank you for loving me. You have saved me. I love you.I love you.I love you.”

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