Bold, Beautiful, and Luscious
I believe that I have the power to love and to shine and that I don’t have to put on make-up, I’m so perfect. When I smile it shows the glow on my face. The twinkle in my eyes brings about the glow that shines like the sun. The color of my skin is like light brown sugar. My eyes are so clear and dark brown—so perfect. I know that I’m bold, beautiful, and luscious.
My head is so perfect. It was molded in a unique way by my grandmother stroking with the palms of her warm hands. It grew and I heard people call me big head, but I knew that I had a big head, round like a basketball. That’s why sometimes now I walk around with my head down—because it gets heavy.
I’m going to let my hair grow, and it will be long, dark, black, and beautiful. I’m going from bald, beautiful, and luscious, to the wind blowing my hair off my shoulders. I will style it in many, many different ways, for example: with curls, in a ponytail, or wrapped so it will cling to the shape of my face.
I couldn’t ask for anything else. I have had long hair before, so I know how it feels to have both, and I know that God made no mistake when he made his beautiful child. I could have no hair or one piece of hair or a million pieces of hair. It wouldn’t matter. I’m beautiful inside and out.
Now where did this belief come from? It came from my auntee, who has gone on now. She told me that my hair looked good short. And why did she tell me that? I was experimenting with my hair one night: I thought I could put a color on top of a perm, and when I went to wash it out I came up from the kitchen sink and I was bald-headed, looking like a plucked chicken.
This belief also comes from the ladies of Magdalene. They saw me with about three inches of hair on my head before I started to cut on it again, and were surprised when I cut my hair. They told me it looked good, but wanted to know why I still wanted to cut more. “Please stop!”
This belief also comes from my boyfriend, Novell, who told me I looked good bald-headed. Sometimes he laughs at me and says that we look alike, but he’s okay with how I look because he likes the natural look. He says little funny things to me like, “Are you ready to join the Navy?” I could color my hair green, blue, yellow…just a rainbow of colors; I could look like Bozo, and he would still love me the same. And once he even said to me, “What’s up bald head?” I replied, “What’s up skin head or fat head?” because he does have one. He makes me feel better about myself. I already feel good about myself. Bold, beautiful, and luscious.
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