Once upon a time
There was black and white
Two distinct colours
Two distinct lines
Black this side
White the other side
Black was black, true to the core
Then there was a movement
They called it the rainbow
New spectrum aglow
Did we move forward
Or slid to a new direction
Hating on each other
Black on black,
Not black enough
White on white
Not white enough
New Movement in progress?
Shades of grey
Generation we want it all
And don’t give a shit
Whose toes we step on,
Our souls are the price tag
Give me the moola
I’ll show you what I got
And you can have it all
My soul is all you need.
And you can have it all
Once upon a time there was soul
‘Twas enough to make me whole
now its just a big hole
but there’s still hope
after the storm
there is a rainbow,
maybe I’ll get to see it too.
The gods adore her, adorned her with beauty
Man sees her, ceases the opportunity
Woman envies her, envisions her sways theirs
I love her, move the heaven and earth for her.
She was never made to be like all
Harsh to the world she seems
Sweet and tender she is inside
Not fazed by the compliments
Maintained that which is sacred to her
Drenching with sweat
The runs she longs for bitter sweet
Adrenalin pumping out of every inch of her
Fine curves sculpted into perfection
Men can only think perversion
The muse and inspiration
Lines can’t be defined
Is it a love for a sister
Envy the body and mind so sinister
Improper love and unwanted desire
Love it is, pure, untainted
No need to cross the lines
It is as it should be
This love can’t be lost
Even when not cherished
Its not phased by lack of voice
Conversations take place in silence
In the comfort of the heart
No need to be heard
Where it matters, it is known
And if it isn’t so
It’s still not lost.
I’m home on a Thursday evening watching my favourite TV program, America’s Next Top Model, one of the few that can make me turn down a night out in town with girlfriends. There are very few of those because I’m not a TV person, more of a pen and paper book crazy.
And I watch this very pretty freckle faced woman cry her eye balls out, because the theme for the day was, “I will make you a model” makeover for all contestants, and her makeover included cutting her very long hair crop short.
Personally I had never even noticed her out of the 12 girls until her hair was cut short. All of a sudden I could see the deep blue eyes and the beautiful freckles sprinkled all over her rosy cheeks. She really just stood out from all the contestants, she was beautiful, the kind of beauty that you find yourself thinking, “The universe must have really paused and watched her being created, perfection to the T”.
It had all been disguised by the long hair.
So the poor girl is crying hysterically the entire night, and at the photo shoot, and during the feedback sessions that they have with Tyra.
She is convinced that she is the ugliest woman on earth now that her hair has been cut short. She looks at the mirror and howls; she doesn’t see all that beauty she possesses, because her hair is gone.
This got me thinking, to what extend does a woman’s hair define her beauty and her worth?
At that moment it crosses my mind that, I have been informed many times that women with short or no hair are not appealing to men. They feel threatened by her, that she is not feminine enough, and rather appears rough on the edges.
This comes from many others, men and women, that have been quizzed on this topic, and also a dear friend who loves them weaves and I must say, she looks really good in them.
She is very pretty, has explored dreadlocks, short hair etc, and she looks really good in weaves. I, on the other hand, have always preferred to go natural and short. At some stage I even grew locks, mainly because I thought they would give me options to do all the beautiful styles that I see fellow sisters rocking, without actually buying 100% HUMAN hair!!
It is not that I have anything against weaves per se; it has more to do with the fact that I personally look best in my short almost no hair, or so I thought. And I have been told many times.
See, my high school was very strict with all students having short, untreated black hair. I got used to that look and wouldn’t even bother to do anything different even during holidays because I’d have to cut it again when schools open.
Even when I proceeded to tertiary and the workplace that became my trademark. I have always loved my natural look, not even dreadlocks can match up to how I feel when I have no hair whatsoever.
Or so I thought, until I was compelled to put a weave on.
You might think why do I feel I was compelled?
Well, I was single, and there was a funeral in the family, the deceased happened to be a male cousin who had plenty of gorgeous friends that came now and again for condolences. And obviously they would all be at the funeral.
Did I mention they were gorgeous? And I had been single for months, craving a little bit of attention?
I had cut my locks because it was in summer and hot, me not used to so much hair on my head they drove me crazy. I kept them, so I can re-attach them again at a later stage.
So I decided to explore the weave options, because they would serve both purposes, my hair will grow longer so I can re-attach my locks, and hopefully I will look good enough to attract a few suitors at the funeral.
The weave worked, everyone noticed, at work, at play, I had never ever had that much attention from people about my hair before.
I looked gorgeous! Yet I was feeling lost, in a foreign world and very irritated by the weave. I felt like I was betraying me, by succumbing to what didn’t come naturally to me, and I really couldn’t embrace it.
Eventually I removed it and went back to what I’m comfortable in, my locks, but the question still remained at the back of my mind,
TO WHAT EXTENT DOES A WOMAN’S HAIR DEFINE HER BEAUTY AND HER WORTH?
And so I ask….
How likely is it that when one says they just want time to be with themselves , nurture that and not get into a relationship, ever just about that? And it’s not the fact that one might just be trying to find a way to cope with being on their own and maximise the time constructively.
Not that if “prince charming” (the dream guy) cropped up and had everything in the list, you would turn them down based on “I’m still attending me” line.
Or maybe just the fear of repeating history you don’t wanna relive is hindering you to be open to the idea that having hope and putting yourself out there is not so bad either.
This is my observation.
The older the potential bride, the more reluctant and less likely they are to get married.
The thing is, at age 30 and above you have set goals for yourself. You know exactly what you want and most times it becomes impossible to neither change nor adjust those to accommodate someone else’s.
Marriage by nature was made such that the man practically figures himself out and the woman fits into that configuration designed and set by the man.
When you as a fully grown woman who has managed to figure things out for yourself without a man, have to now squeeze into the man’s configuration, it gets challenging and most times leaves you with a hundred ex’s.
A woman that marries young figures herself out within the marriage and plans her life around the configuration. Their set values and principles are moulded around and by the commitment they have made to each other.
So what happens to the older potential bride?
Do you give up your own dreams, plans and values for the sake of having someone and reconfigure yourself into the man’s master plan?
Or do you stick to your own and spend the rest of your life in the dating scene, trying to find the one guy who is willing to take you as you are with all that you have and hope for, and make it work?
Or, do you build yourself a mansion, fill it up with all things beautiful God and man made, fulfil your wildest dreams and desires and live your life happily single ever after?
Or, do you become a nun and forget about ever touching a human being other than their hand?
I would love to hear some views on this one.
Penny for your thoughts?