I think I'm morphing into an upside-down plant of some sort.
MAJOR SHRINKAGE. The loops...the loops!
The boyfriend is not being very encouraging. I've been on this journey for over a year and my dreads "don't look like dreads, go get them done so they look good, it's just a hairstyle." Blahblahblah. They looked good in the beginning with the backcombing and the palm rolling and the so-called maintenance, which, sorry to say, is total bullshit. They were fauxlocks, pseudolocks. But now this is real. They're tight as fuck though towards the top- so they're definitely growing in right. So the beginnings of my newly growing in dreadies are good and tight and round, but towards the bottom... not so much. Why are they so flat and somewhat stiff? Perhaps they are too dry? Maybe it was the fucked-up-ness of the backcombing in the beginning? Or should I *gasp* start palm rolling again? Or ACV rinses? Or maybe just more patience.
I find myself incredibly jealous of people who've been dreading for less time than I and have "better" locks. I feel like I've invested so much time to achieve what? Flattened loops, beaver tails, loose hairs... all sorts of madness.
Don't get me wrong, I'm absolutely NOT thinking about cutting them, even though I'm constantly encouraged to... "You were so pretty with your nice long hair!" "I got a bottle of conditioner and a brush for you, giggle giggle." "What happened to your hair?" "Where did your dreadlocks go?" IT MAKES ME WANT TO SCREAM. But I don't. I patiently explain, over and over and over. I'm tired of explaining. Yet I continue to explain, and answer questions, and yes I wash my hair, and yes you can touch them, wax is bad, natural is good, talk to me in another year or two and see how they look then [motherfucker]!
So is it a coincidence that I'm most dissatisfied with my dreadlocks at the same time I'm most dissatisfied with myself? There's an interesting parallel here. I worked so hard, waited so long... all for what? I kicked heroin for fucking what? To be homeless? Homeless and not on drugs? (It was easy to sleep outside when the needle kept me warm. It was easy not to care.) And the jealousy! There's a phrase from certain blue book- "Are we judging our insides by the outsides of others?" Yes, yes I fucking am. I mean, at least now I have some friends, people who have opened their homes to me, for which I'm eternally grateful. I haven't had to sleep outside. Still...the lack of stability, my own apathy, my sense of worthlessness, my plain bad luck. Now I have to feel this instead of blindly stumbling around searching for some sense of comfort.
Nothing to do but walk through the pain and discomfort of my slow-maturing locks and my slow-maturing self, to hope that we'll be okay, and to hope for some strength on the other side.
Some people don't understand... this way more than just a hairstyle.