Your Hair

It has always been yours. You just didn’t know it.

With its long, thick tresses. The reddish-brown shine. The soft curls that fell from your shoulders. From a young age you were told how beautiful it was.

"Is it natural?" "I wish my hair was that thick and pretty." "How do you keep it looking so healthy?" “You should feel lucky, to have such beautiful hair.”

You embraced that part of yourself; let yourself be confident in your beauty. You had been blessed with it, so why not be bold in your confidence?

With that confidence trust followed suit. You let people touch it, nourish it, play with it. You trusted them. You knew they would not harm your hair. Why would they destroy something they claim to love?

However, you can't always be right in who you trust. You thought you knew them well enough, you could trust them with your hair. They would protect it, love it. But this time, you were wrong. They were not who they said they were. They would not protect it, they would not love it. They would abuse it. They took it from you, tearing it from your scalp, gluing it onto their own heads, using it as their own, taking advantage of what you had so willingly offered. So you did what no one would think you could do.

You cut it. Grasping for some feeling of control, clambering towards the person you used to be. All the while knowing that girl was already so far behind you.

You kept it short for many years. Now, no one could touch it. No one could wrap their fingers around it. No one could use it. Now you were the one to choose who was able to be near it.

Yes, they still admired its color and shine. But it wasn't what it once was. Now just jagged edges, darker red, never past your jawline.

Eventually you met new people. People that you became more like your old self, comfortable to be around. You didn't need a haircut every two months. You decided to try to let it grow.

Tentatively you let them near it. You were scared of becoming the person you once were, that naïve girl who trusted anyone that could smile. It started off with compliments, soon growing into true admiration for its beauty. Your beauty. They saw it as it was. Yes, it can be frizzy, uncooperative, but cleaning it, brushing it, truly caring for it, has made it to be what it is today. Only by the help of others has your hair grown.

Your hair my look the same, but it does not hold the same shine, or the same color. You are new.

You aren't the young trusting girl you once were but, you are learning how to be confident in who you let touch your hair, embrace your hair, love your hair. You know what to look out for. But you also know that these new people, they are nothing like the others. They will not pull, tear, rip. They’ll brush, soothe, nourish. They will let you grow.

Now your hair is long, way past the length it was. Looking at your hair now, you no longer recognize the one looking back at you. The way it hangs down your back. The curls more defined with age. How it flies in five different directions in the wind. And when you look at your hair, the health that's held in it's curls, the growth it has made, you know it's your own.

It has always been yours. You just didn’t know it.