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Ooo you don’t like my hair…

Yassssss “Snaps fingers” !!!

Queen Ombaba writes...

You don’t like my hair in its natural state? You think I look too peasantry, yes? I’m too pretty for my hair to look like this?  You compare my natural, freshly washed, shaped hair to your oily, nasty, and dirty hair.

Ooo, you don’t like my hair. You don’t like my ability to express my Afrocentric features. You don’t like how I can be happy with something you’ve been taught to hate. You don’t like that I don’t feel the pressure to look like you with your thinning crown and dusty tresses.

So you don’t like my hair? You don’t like my statement of pride for my heritage and cultures. You don’t like my difference. Because before I took out my long single braids, we were the same, huh? In your eyes, we were both trying to make ourselves into acceptable versions.  In your own twisted mind, I needed to be like you in some way…

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