ymib.com - Daily Inspiration

As some of you know I have made the transition from locs and wear my hair in a short afro now. I went natural when I was in the 11th grade in High school. I had become conscious during those years and became moved to cut off my perm and rediscover my hair in it's natural state.
I loced my hair for the 1st time back in 1994 and although I was happy with the step I had made, I was never completely satisfied with the outcome. You see I had gone to a professional loctician to start my locs and she started me with these scraggily two strand twists. From the 1st day I knew it wasn't right. At that time I had not embraced Rastafari but still I wanted a less manicured appearance. I have allways been a roots dawta at heart.

So I waited 5 and a half years for them to become what I had invisioned but although they were beautiful they never really did. So I struggled with the decision but eventually I cut them off.

I let my hair grow just long enough to sprout my locs again. I started my second crop of locs in 1999 but at this time I was beginning to site Rastafari so I covered my hair ALL OF THE TIME. Even in the house because this time I was a DREAD! I did no grooming what so ever, just wash, dry and wrap. My parents were horrified at the site of my nottys so I spared them and everyone else my rebellious tresses. Covering my head was very important to me, it meant that I shunned vanity, that I was in a state of constant prayer and meditation, it protected me from having people randomly touch me. I LOVED IT! It also let the whole world know that I was an Afrikan and my father was Haile Selassie I the first and my Mother was Empress Menen of Ethiopia. Everyone who saw me and knew me saw that I AM NOT THE SAME, I live by a sacred code that you don’t know about.

It also made me stand out, not like a sore thumb, but as a bright and beautiful flag waving RED, GOLD, AND GREEN on top of the mountain of Babylon. . I wore colorful head wraps of every kind with every garment. Women looked at me with wonder and admiration. Men looked at me with awe and reverance. I looked like what I thought, felt and lived. Being a strict vegan vegetarian gave me clear skin, a clear mind and a slender body. For the first time in my life I felt like an Afrikan Queen. You see, I had become an Empress!

My locs grew longer again although no one knew it and they had matted and joined together some fat as a thumb some skinny as a pinky. I LOVED IT! Jamaican Rastas call it “Congo, Bongo, Dread, Natty“. It’s the old school way of describing the way Rastas in the hills of Jamaica would let their locs grow with reckless abandon to the horror and wonderment of society. But mine were a closely guarded secret . By that time I had met people who had never even seen my hair while they knew me. My wraps got bigger and bigger and people would ask me “How long is your hair” out of curiosity. And I would simply reply “long”.

But I started to hear a little voice not in my head but under my wrap saying, “Let me out, I want to be free again”. And that voice became louder and louder until I could no longer do it. I could no longer perform my daily ritual wrapping as I had done everyday for 6 years. So one day, almost like a coming out party or the opening of a show, I did it. I walked out of my house naked, NO HEADWRAP! Well I wasn’t naked but I sure did feel like it. But I did it again, and again until it got easier. Would you believe that a lot of people who knew me didn’t recognize me sans turban! How ridiculous I thought. I am the exact same person, how can that be.

I was beginning to realize that I had become defined by an image, a stereotype of who I really was. I began to examine who I truly was in my own mind. I was still Rasta, but I had no locs, other people didn’t know I was Rasta anymore. How was I to represent?? For the 1st time in a long time, I blended in with the masses. And well... that didn’t exactly sit right with me either. But really what did it matter, how important was the outer image? To me, it wasn't. My character defines me, not just my physical appearance. It's about how I carry myself as a Woman, the outside is just a shell, a small vessel of the Most High. Also Biblically speaking locs signify a time of separation from thw world and a communion with nature. For some it is a covenant that lasts a life time, for others it is a physical transformation that may manifest for a reason and a season. In anycase we have to discover and define who we are for ourselves and be strong enough to make changes when our spirit asks us to. As for me, what you see today is what you saw yesterday. I remain, Marjorie, a simple, modest young Woman who strives to be humble yet powerful on my journey. Still embracing her faith and living by the incorruptible principles of Rastafari. Locs or no locs, BOLDLY and without apology because now I know why the caged bird sings. She sings because she is FREE.

P.S.
I still think about starting my locs again, the saga continues ;)