I’m about to! By Chellyz View

I don’t know about you, but 2020 has me feeling, “Cray, Cray.” Not sure if people still use that phrase, but who cares! Hell, that’s how I feel! I have dealt with fear, frustration, confusion, gratefulness, thankfulness, sadness,  and unpreparedness. Well, I think you get the picture. Many emotions have invaded my body and mind to the point where I felt I needed to walk around with a do not trespass sign on my forehead. With everything that is going on I am learning how to navigate through these overwhelming amount of feelings.

If I am uncertain about anything, one thing is for sure; I have decided to adopt a phrase my children state often. Usually, when I ask them to complete a task or chore, their response in the abbreviated edition is, “I’m bout to.” Well, that is what I have decided to do. “I am about to” embrace this life like never before.

Though COVID-19 is still out there lurking in every corner of our lives, and ready to snatch the next victim, I can’t live in fear. I stay prayed up, masked up, and try to be as cautious as I can. This year, I have witnessed individuals who were too young personally and from afar leave this Earth before reaching half a century. Before I know it, if the Holy Spirit allows, I will be approaching that AARP stage. With that being said, I’m about to live each day with a purpose, plan, and peacefulness, as I have never experienced before.

On that note….

I am about to uninvite myself to arguments that take up my energy.

I am about to use my voice to advocate for myself. No, that doesn’t mean I am the angry black woman.

I am about to scream or curse as deemed appropriate to help me release tension.

I am about to finish projects that have been placed on my heart to complete before the end of the year.

I am about to become more disciplined to complete a certification I have been lazy about.

I am about to create my happiness when those around me disappoint me.

I am about to push depression to the side when it tries to consume my soul and accept help when needed to have a healthier mindset.

I am about to let others know their emergency doesn’t become my emergency, but I will offer the necessary resources when available to help them become self-sufficient.

I am about to love myself more.

I am about to make it clear others will not stress me out.

I am about to say no when I want to without guilt.

I am about to shed the unnecessary weight be it related to pounds or people that holds me down.

I am about to take risks when doubt tries to step on my toes and keeps me from pursuing my dreams.

I am about to accept accountability for my misjudgments and mistakes and continue to grow, heal, and move on.

I am about to stay encouraged when the enemy wants me to remain defeated.

I am about to get my finances in order.

I am about to focus on what is ahead of me instead of what has passed.

I am about to live my life to the fullest based on my terms.

I am about to walk with confidence when low self-esteem tries to persuade me that I am not good enough.

I am about to cry when I need to, laugh when I want to, and relax when I must.

I am about to stop talking about what I need to do and just put forth the effort to make things happen.

I am about to trust in the Holy Spirit more.

I am about to increase my faith and spiritual life.

I will add to this list if need be. Not one moment is promised to us. So, I am about to do what I need to do for my sanity. What about you? 

-Let your heart be full of new ventures that will lead you to the possibilities of limitless conversations!

Gotta Do Something by Chellyz View

Black woman screaming

Gotta Do Something by Chellyz View

I would be telling a story, but I guess this is what blogging is about telling stories. Right?  Anyway, I would be telling a story if I told you I was feeling like a Champ and everything smelled like fresh roses.  From social injustice, police brutality, crime in the neighborhoods, COVID-19, systematic oppression, overcoming depression damn…. I just got exhausted typing this all!!!  Last week, it felt as if the walls were caving in on me.  I was pissed.  I was angry.  I was suffocating.  Mentally a Sistah was weak.  I was about to faint.

Lately, the whole world has been in an uproar.  Daily marches and protests, virtual meetings, and discussions, social media flooded with feelings of frustration, and the news chatters of another incident, another death, and another life lost too soon.  This pain is piercing like the nails of a crucifixion.  I heard the squeals of a mother on repeat who is saddened by losing a child.  I saw the tears of children who are grieving because they keep trying to comprehend why their momma, daddy, or someone they cared about won’t be returning home. I experienced the hopelessness from families, friends, and the community losing their grasp because they are too weak to keep holding on from the attacks we face as a Black race.

warrior

This struggle started before I was pushed out of my momma’s womb.  Racism, poverty, and discrimination have been causing labor pains before my great, great, great, and let me add another great grandmomma even graced the earth. Heroin, Crack, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, broken homes, and gunfire have plagued these streets like the Bubonic wreaking mad havoc.  The stench is strong.  As soon as the black community gets a whiff of what it feels like to be stable the Earth shakes and knocks us down on our backs.  There’s smoke everywhere and it ain’t from the riots. We are being smothered by hate, destruction, and violence.

Though I felt weary last week, I know I “Gotta Do Something!”  So, from time to time I must power down.  I haven’t participated in any protests or marches but that doesn’t mean I won’t do anything.  Many of us have been doing what we can for a long time.  The weight of the cries, heavy hearts, and sorrows cannot be carried alone.  We all “Gotta Do Something” in our own time and in our own way.  We volunteer.  We speak.  We pray. We donate.  We organize.  We move.  We are always moving in hopes of better days, better tomorrows, better years, better decades, and better centuries.

I ain’t giving up but every now again I must pause so I can contribute to the cause. Your actions may be subtle or you may attack the issues while roaring like a lion.  Either way do something. Yes!  You “Gotta Do something!”

-Let your heart be full of new ventures that will lead you to the possibilities of limitless conversations!

My Mane Journey as a 4C Girl by Chellyz View

 

Pic Earrings

My Mane Journey as a 4C Girl by Chellyz View

Changing the Narrative as a 4C Girl 

The journey of being a natural hair girl in the D has been a roller coaster ride for myself. My hair has been described as coarse, think, and untamed. Several years ago, I learned the category for my hair is 4c, which means I have very tight coils. In my younger years, being a 4C Girl led to being teased for having unmanageable nappy hair. Thankfully, the negative connotation of that statement is transforming into something beautiful. 4C Girls are embracing their hair across the nation! From the workplace, pool, gym, and beyond, we are representin’ and lovin’ on our hair more than evahhhhhhhh!

The fierce war of battling and embracing my kinks over the decades had me feeling emotions of imprisonment to appreciating the joys of hair freedom. As a young girl, I had my woes of getting my hair done. I collected countless tears that left a bucket full of fond memories from breaking multiple hair combs to having my hair straightened by pressing combs.

 

One of my spiritual sisters stated, “I must be related to Jesus.” Her reasoning behind the statement was my hair felt like wool. One of my cousins who used to French braid my wild mane told me my hair was thick enough to cut her fingers. Also, hairdressers have said my hair would burn the tips of their fingers because it held an abundance amount of heat. At that time, I didn’t realize the Holy Spirit designed my hair to match my strength for the challenging days ahead called LIFE.

Taming My Head as a Child

 

Who ensured my head was combed daily as a child? That lucky person was my aunt! My mom had already realized doing hair was not her gift. It was neither mine until my late 20s. My aunt had her hands full because I was a tender-headed child who looked like cousin “IT” from The Addams Family after a wash and blow-dry. For many years, she was skillful at taming my wild hair. My coils would be brushed and parted by my aunt then decoratively styled with colorful barrettes and ponytail holders.

cheer

Getting my hair pressed as a child wasn’t always Cheerful!!!

Eventually, my mom and aunt decided to take me to the long-gone Debbie’s Beauty School on Gratiot near East Seven Mile Road in Detroit. One day they found a beauty shop just for kids known as Some Place Special on West Seven Mile Road near Evergreen. They had toys, baby dolls, and patient beauticians who had the magic touch to keep my coils under control.

The Culture of Hair in the Community

As I grew older, I realized hair was more than a culture in our community. It’s an experience. Hair has always been a “thing” in Detroit. My city is called the Hair Capital of the World. We hosted many infamous “Hair Shows and “Hair Wars.” Detroit is where people emphasize the phrase “Fried, Dyed, and Laid to the Side.” We are well known for the vast amount of local beauty and barbershops that are a few miles apart from one another. You can always find a neighborhood beautician or barber beautifying or cutting hair in their home with their workstation situated inside the kitchen or basement. I had my share of trial and error of trying to find the right beautician to style my head or accommodate my schedule due to balancing work, children, and extracurricular activities.

Oh yeah! I was always trying to figure out what I should do with my hair. I cut it a few times, let it grow back, permed it, rocked braids and wigs, wore sew-ins, braid outs and twists outs. Over 13 years ago, I decided to go natural. However, one summer, the humidity won, and I asked the hairdresser to dump that creamy white substance in my head asap! Weeks later, I felt guilty after perming my head. After that incident, I vowed to stay natural forever. That was several years ago.

Deciding to Initiate the Loc Journey 

Well, it’s a new century! What’s happening as I continue to discover my hair passage to independence? After contemplating for at least eight years, I decided to Loc my hair! Before making the decision, I had randomly asked 100 strangers, read 200 articles, spoke with several people I know who have Loc’d their hair, watched 75 YouTube videos, browsed Pinterest and Instagram for 1,000 hours, and made the ultimate decision. Most people know I exaggerate, but that is how it felt.

Anyway, it was time to Loc these Locks! At first, I was going to have Sisterlocs installed, but that ordeal fell through. I lost $50 from a consultation fee, but that is another story. I reached out to another Loctitian on Facebook Messenger and left a phone message. I never received a response. Therefore, I stopped reaching out because I didn’t want to feel like a stalker.

Embracing My Loc Venture

New Locs

After finishing My Locs with two-strand twists

I was eager to start my Loc journey. So, on Sept. 22 through Sept. 23, 2019, I joined forces with one of my good friends known as Netflix to keep me company. After watching six movies and taking 20 breaks, I installed two-strand twists in my hair. The two-strand twist style wasn’t new to me, but this journey was different. I knew in my heart I wanted to loc my hair. My parts were uneven, and my hands were unsteady, but my intuition assured me it was essential to love on my Locs.

After locing my hair, there were small bouts of doubt that crept in. Did I make them the right size? Should I have paid the astronomical price of having Sisterlocs installed professionally? Should I have gone to an expert to interlock my hair? Should I this? Should I that? I was excited, nervous, and grateful at the same time.

Hair is the Inspiration

Hair Inspiration

My Auntie aka The Hair Inspirationist

On this journey, I am thankful for all those who keep me inspired!  I learned that I shouldn’t utilize the phrase “ugly phase” when referring to my newly installed Locs. Yes, my hair is frizzy, the shrinkage is real, and some of the ends unravel when they feel like it. However, I contribute this phase in my life as “awkwardly beautiful.” My mane source of “Hair Inspiration” comes from my Auntie Sherry, who, as stated earlier, used to tame these locs when I was a little girl. She has been growing her locs for over 15 years!

My hairdresser, who used to press my hair, schools me on how to remain calm during this early process of allowing my hair to loc.  She also does a phenomenal job retightening my Locs as needed. After twisting my hair, I found out she installed locs.  I guess that is what I get for not asking when I changed my mind about not getting Sisterlocs!  Also, I follow a few groups on Facebook that keep me encouraged. One Facebook group that has been instrumental in me keeping my faith during the process is Braidlocs, Sisterlocs, Microlocs, Interlocs, & More! I recommend you check out the group or find a supportive page or person to help keep you sane if you decide to loc your hair.

Experiencing Hair Freedom with Locs

Excercise Day

Prepared the Locs for a Moment of Exercise

I don’t know how long I will wear my Locs, but at this moment, I will describe my hair journey as liberating. No additives such as perms, brushes, or combs needed at this time. However, wear your hair as you choose. I can only speak for myself. The societal constraints of what defines beauty no longer confines me. I am a Detroit Girl with 4C Hair who has found contentment by deciding to embrace my crown with Locs. No matter where you are from, I hope you recognize and find what brings you the happiness of hair freedom as well!

-Let your heart be full of new ventures that will lead you to the possibilities of limitless conversations!

Reference:

Facebook Group:  Braidlocs, Sisterlocs, Microlocs, Interlocs, & More!