Sunday Reflections: Getting Some Of It Out

I've been reading Slim Jackson's (therealslimjackson.com) posts and I noticed something. Sometimes for his Eff 'Em Fridays he writes a paragraph to lead readers to his frustrations. Other times he just starts right off with the frustrations. This past Friday he didn't write anything. That was sad,  but he's business. We all understand. Anyway, this is my beginning paragraph that's leading you to the thoughts on my mind.

For today's posts an overwhelming amount of topics crossed my mind to write about. One big topic was the big chop. Two weeks ago I made an appointment with a brand new beautician and told her to cut all the perm off my head. Another topic could have been the depressing single life. I'm single, almost 25, no men lined up which means no love life and only blankets to keep me warm this winter. I could have also written about the career struggle. Everyone's perception of the career struggle is different. However, I couldn't choose a certain topic, so I'm just about to divulge a bunch of things from my mind. Are you ready?

I Am Not My Hair (But Really I Am)

Right before the hair started being cut off my head, Project Pat's song "Chicken Head" ran through my mind. Yesterday in the mall I saw an old friend. Two hours later that same person quoted a line from this song in his status. Two weeks ago I made an appointment at a new salon with a new beautician. Before that I'd been getting my hair done (take out college) by the same person since I was 13. It was time for a change. The beautician wasn't the only thing I changed though. I also had all of my perm cut off. Some people wait 6 months after a perm to do the chop. I waited three months and decided waiting longer wasn't worth it. Now my hair is extra tiny and I'm learning how to manage it all over again. The problem with managing it is I have a million people trying to help me manage it. 

While changing up hairstyles is common among African American women, going natural is like studying Africa. Even though you've never been to Africa and your knowledge of the continent is very rusty, you just can't help but be curious about it. Sometimes I forget that Africa is a continent and there are countries in it. There's so much to learn about Africa and natural hair is the same way. With natural hair everyone has a different growth pattern, a different curl pattern, and a different hair texture. With all that being said there are eyes watching my new transition. My new hair transition is amazing because it's a new start, frustrating because it's a new start, and annoying because people are paying attention to my new start. 

What if my natural hair grows out to be a mess? What if it doesn't grow? What if I have this weird curl pattern that no one knows how to manage? Since the beginning of time it has already grown funny-looking in the back. If anything goes wrong with my hair, people will be judging and that's a problem. 

I Am Not My Mistakes (But Really I Am)

I'm almost 25 and single. This could mean that I could wake up five years from now and still be single, no children, maybe a cat, and maybe or maybe not a nice enjoyable career. Enjoyable career or not I might just be single still. In the name of star status, I keep telling myself that the past men weren't good enough anyway. But on the other hand, I haven't reached star status yet, so maybe it's my fault that it didn't last with these men.  It's the same with a career. 

I'm trying desperately to hold on to the fact that my goals will come true. However, another part of me says I've messed up. I made writing into a hobby at a young age and didn't correctly treat it as a future career then. I asked a million questions to strangers when I was young, but only saw them as questions I needed answers to. Internships weren't dropped onto my doorstep and I didn't correctly (and timely) pursue them. I discovered new passions, but still haven't found the right people to talk to about them. Well, my best friend does count as a right person, so I have one person. Do you see the problem?

I Am Not My Career (But Really I Am)

The job title I have now (which I shall not mention) is not bad, but I don't want to be defined by it. I also don't want to be defined as a writer. I just want to do it. I don't want to be defined as a photographer or wanna-be model or whatever insults they throw at people that always have a camera. I just want to take pictures. I want learn more about editing and videography, but it shouldn't define me. I want to move to a new state and experience new adventures, but it shouldn't be called running away or becoming a traveler. I want to be weird, but don't want to be defined as weird. Who created that word weird anyway? I hate it. I want to be great, but not because of what's on my resume and not because of the momentary title I give myself. If I could just have one name on Facebook it would be Lashuntrice (no last name). Do you understand the words that you are reading? 

It Is My Passion (But It's Greater Than Me)

A few weeks ago I wrote about how some Facebook stranger asked me if my goals were routed in God. The post may not have accurately expressed my thoughts on this. The problem was not that he asked. The problem was that he'd even judge. Why was he judging? I grew up the in church. Practically every move that I make has some thoughts of God in them. However, I don't need to tell the world that and I don't need some stranger asking me that. It really is rude, because it's like going up to a poorly dressed man and handing him money. His attire doesn't mean he's homeless. It just means he didn't dress up on that day. Plus, I wasn't born with a pen in my hand. The knowledge that I could do this just came to me one day and I started perfecting it. That right there is a sign that it absolutely is routed in God so he shouldn't have asked. 

I Want To Be Held (But Not By Anyone)

I give up. The single life gets lonely. Being independent is a myth. Creating goals and actually achieving them with no support is impossible. Dating is meant to be done with more than yourself. Friends aren't always meant to be around. More than enough romantic songs have been created to set the tone for both women and men. Some men are assholes, but there are good men out there. The good men might be in the gym right now as I'm typing. I want to be held, but not by anyone. Some women want a Tupac with a college degree, but I just want a man that I can bond with. I want the chemistry and the potential for it to last. I want to be held. 

Until next time, enjoy the thoughts I've left for you. I know you have some deep thoughts going through your head too.