It occurred to me what I was really coveting was that 3b curl, not the tight, fuzzy 4a-4b hair that is on my head. That I was born with. That God gave me.
But I’m getting over it.
Last time I was at the hairdresser, I had her blow-dry and flat iron my hair so I could see how long it has gotten. When she finished, we could both see the frayed and damaged ends, so I let her snip them off. Since it was straighten, the cut didn’t seem dramatic. But a week later when I washed my hair and styled it curly with MJ's Curly Pudding, I could see the difference. Free from those dead ends, my curls sprang up, and up and up.
But rather than grabbing the blow dryer and blasting the roots, I let it just be. It was still soft and the coils still wrapped lovingly around my fingers. A big part of accepting your natural hair is getting used to it.
But as the curl definition got fainter and fainter each day, I succumbed. I didn’t do another co-wash, though. This time I did dry twists with MJ’s Buttercream. I kept the twists in for almost three days. That also was something new for me. I had thought I didn’t look good with my hair in twists, but I liked these.
And now, after taking them out I have a fabulous twist out of stretched, defined curls.
Like I said, I’m still trying to love the ’fro, but I’ not there yet.
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