P.S My dress.
In some respect, it’s worth noting here, if anywhere, that my hair is nothing more than what it is. It is no ruling definition, no blanket of my person. My hair has changed it’s course; growing, breaking, and growing again. It has changed colors and textures along the way too. Lately, I’ve been dreaming about cutting it all off and entering this new sense of freedom. A freedom that I once tasted years ago, except, with a slightly different palette. A freedom that would be unique to this LaTonya that stands before.
There’s this significant part of me that knows this itch to cut it all off is me seeking something more relevant than myself. In the search, I know that cutting all of it off would be a contradiction of everything I believe. I can seek and find that fulfilling change just by living and changing the course. Hair, while unruly at times, doesn’t stop a person from becoming a person. So, I twist it back in the interim. I note the way it feels when the sun kisses my cheeks and when the wind brushes my lips. I note the way the air feels when it fills my lungs. And then I push forward on that search.