CONFESSIONS OF AN AFROLATINA: EMBRACING YOUR NATURAL HAIR

It has taken me a very long time to embrace my coarse natural hair. To be honest, I never even knew I had curly hair, I thought my hair was naturally straight. I have had relaxers in my hair since the age of five, and by my sophomore year of college I had enough with the constant breakage, split ends, and excessive heat damage. So I decided to go natural, or I attempted to do so. The transition to natural hair was not an easy one, I can tell you that. I had people tell me that my hair wasn't pretty enough for me to go natural, and so my self-esteem was lower than it had ever been before. 

I would get really upset because my hair didn't look like the curly community on YouTube. And then I realized, I was watching the wrong channels. I found myself gravitating to what society perceives beautiful natural hair to be. And so at a very low point in my life, I had enough. I chopped my hair and had it relaxed not once, but twice. However, I still wasn't happy with my hair. I knew that this relaxed hair didn't show people who I really was. And it was a battle. At that moment  I knew I was going through an identity crisis. 

So I started again. 

I  stopped trying to tame the afrolatina within me.

And I fell in love. 

I fell in love with my perception of self.

My confidence.

My coarse/ frizzy coils.

Everything. 

I fell in love with what I was made to look like. After so many years not knowing what my natural hair looked and felt like, I can finally say that I can breathe again. My transition to natural hair felt as if a HUGE weight was lifted off of my shoulders. 

Many women do not understand why we afrolatinas struggle so much with self-love. It's because we were never taught how. 

Never taught to love our colored skin and coarse coils. 

We were taught that the pajon on our heads were a symbol of shame, and not of pride. 

And the only way to make a pajon beautiful was to chemically alter its natural form through relaxers.

Today, I am proud to have come this far, and am loving my natural hair. Yes, I do straighten it sometimes, but not excessively. The best part about my hair is its versatility. I can do whatever I want with it, and  style however I please. I just wanted to say that I have finally embraced who and what I am. And I hope that many of you transitioning do as well. 

❤

This is what I thought my natural hair looked like
(2012)

First time I transitioned. Braid outs were my go to style!
(2014)

                                      

                     Experimenting with bantu knots.
                   (2015)

Successful Wash & Go
(2017)

NOTE TO SELF #6

You're not in this alone. 

THE PATIENT

I arrived at the clinic at 7:30 am. Making my way to the conference room, I see a few of the medical assistants enjoying a warm cup of joe in silence, pausing in between each sip to blurt out a cheerful "Good Morning!" to the medical staff. Routinely I would join them for two minutes of bliss before a hectic shift began. But today, I took my time trying to make the perfect cup of coffee. You guys know what I'm talking about, right? That perfect cup that numbs your senses from  the days troubles. That cup of joe that jumpstarts your day, and makes the world seem...perfect. I didn't take a sip from my cup of bliss, for my mind drifted toward a patient we saw just a few weeks ago with an elevated PSA (Prostate Specific Antigen)  just under 5,000. At that moment, my cup of joe didn't seem so perfect at all. From my time working as a scribe, I knew that a patient with an elevated PSA like that, was at a very high risk for prostate cancer. Metastatic prostate cancer. Normal PSA levels vary by age, and race, but this one was by far the highest I've seen. My mind was filled with many why, how, and whens. I nervously wondered what his prostate biopsy confirmed and prayed that I wouldn't have to write the dreadful words: PROSTATE CANCER in his chart, if I ever did see him again. 

I shook the thought out of my head, and kept my cup of bliss pressing against my chest as I made my way out of the conference room and into the doctors office.

After greeting my assigned physician, I went throughout the rest of my shift with ease. My cup of bliss lay untouched on the carpet. In between documenting charts and interacting with the medical assistants, the physician tells me to bring the patient in Exam Room #3 into his office. Although a very small task, I like walking into the exam rooms and greeting patients. It gives me time to engage in small talk with them, about other things in life not related to their visit. He looked  familiar, but from all the patients we had seen in the past few weeks, I couldn't seem to remember his name or the reason for his visit. He  was accompanied by an effervescent female friend who made jokes all the way to the office. They were like two peas in a pod!  Upon arrival, his chart was sent to me and as soon as I opened it, I knew who the guy in exam room #3 was. The guy with the ridiculously elevated PSA. 

I took a sip.

Like my coffee, the encounter was sweet yet bitter. I had to choke back tears as his friend was telling me what a wonderful man he is and the story of how their friendship grew. Sadly, her time with him has been shortened due to his metastatic prostate cancer, yet he was ok with his diagnosis. It didn't faze him one bit, as if he were in a state of bliss.  As I dreadfully finish up documenting the encounter, I wonder how  someone diagnosed with a very high grade cancer be blissful? It is moments like these that make me want to slow down and take life one day at a time. 

One second at a time. 

❤

NOTE TO SELF #5

NOTE TO SELF #4