It’s
been almost three months and my love affair deepens by the day. It
was a slow burner to start and I felt put upon and drained of my time
and energy. Then came the compliments, and an awareness of the
physical changes in me. Finally like the season, I blossomed and
developed a full blown crush….. on my hair (what else would I have
been talking about?) Though it hasn't been plain sailing; indeed
quite the contrary.
Exercise
is not my friend, it is my enemy. The problem is my somewhat rotund
physique ensures the gym is a necessary evil I must endure to curtail
the inevitable onset of obesity. What was once an unpleasant task of
a twice weekly exercise regime, in the days of braids, where I’d
invest in sweetly scented sprays, sheens and oils to mask the smell
of sweat (grimace but you know it’s the truth) and slept after a
quick blow dry; has become an arduous rigmarole since the onset of
natural hair. Now my hair is no doubt cleaner thanks to my twice
weekly washes, deep conditioning, nightly twist outs and detangling.
There is however the bitter joy in the morning, trying to style an
uncontrollable mop of angry hair still to fully dry out from the
night before.
