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love thyself.

“ Before you love someone else or allow someone else to love you, you must first love yourself.” How many times do we hear or see those words? As a young woman, I can’t count the number of times I have. Let me have seen them a few months, or maybe even weeks ago, and I would have sucked my teeth, grimaced a little and kept scrolling. Why? Because it appeared to be a given and quite frankly having people say that was a bit insulting. I imagined that people without self-love were the druggies and streetwalkers. But recently, I began to realize that is not the case. And, I saw that I don’t love myself the way I should. The love you have for yourself should be mind-blowing, unbreakable and evident. Mine was barely any of that.

As a child, I struggled. At home, I was the only child but I was ok with it. I enjoyed playing alone and having time to myself. The majority of my issues began when I didn’t fit in with the other black kids at school. I had a mind of my own and I didn’t see color. Let me tell you, that was not the norm for my town. Then came middle school . I had a ridiculous growth spurt and quickly became the tallest girl in my class. I was skinny, tall, awkward and black. I found myself wishing all the time that I could fix myself to fit and blend in. In high school, I began to care less and less about what other people thought. I realized I wasn’t made to fit in and decided I would no longer try to. By college, I was confident. It took years to build, but I could finally say that I was confident. It seems my confidence made me noticeable because I received a great amount of attention from the opposite sex toward the end of high school and all throughout college. And, I believe that was where my demise began…

I wouldn’t say that I lost all confidence because I didn’t. I just got so used to having someone there that I didn’t remember how to be alone. I had been the most unhappiest of my life during the past year or so. Now, there was a lot that contributed to that, but one thing that I have acknowledged was my self-love. I was forced to be alone when I lost someone very dear to me. I expected everyone around me to step up to the plate and help me get through my trying time. That didn’t quite happen. I started into this spiral of loathing everything. The city I lived in, the apartment I lived in, the people I worked with, the job I worked at and mostly because I felt so alone. I hadn’t been completely and totally alone since I began dating back in high school. If it didn’t work with one guy, rest assured there were plenty waiting in line. I always had a backup. This time, I didn’t. I only had me. Sure, there were friends and family, but no one understood me. I slowly began to feel like that out of place girl in grade school.

The truth became evident all of the sudden. It was not my job or the city that was making me so unhappy, it had a lot to do with me. How could I be happy with anything if I wasn’t happy with myself? Unlike other types of relationships, there was no option to abandon ship, break –up or divorce. To fall back in love with myself has not been an easy process. It’s gradual and very similar to working out the kinks in an old flame. I did things I enjoyed because I enjoy them. I cooked and tried out new recipes…for me. I set “me dates” multiple times throughout the week, even if it was just watching a favorite TV show. I set time aside to reflect on my days, so I could have a meaningful conversation with me. I discussed my needs and wants and reassured myself, that I am worth EVERYTHING.

Now I don’t know what the future holds for my love life…but I do know that if there is someone out there in the realms looking for me; I am confident that I would be the best companion I could possibly be. All because I love me first.

the natural hair rut.

That moment when a recovering addict is tested and begins to have second thoughts. Hello, hiya I am there. And, the saddest part is, I’m not fully natural. I am currently 12 ½ months post relaxer with a guesstimate of 40-50% of my relaxed ends left. So here comes the major problems:

• Moisture! Lord have mercy, I have had the worst time trying to retain moisture. I keep blaming it on the two different textures having two different requirements, but honestly I’m not sure what is going on. I have been trying different methods and luckily have made some progress but…Lord! The struggles I have dealt with thus far….
• Thickness! Now, let me be clear-I am not saying that having thick hair is a problem but I am saying that is a problem to deal with when you’re not used to it. Not only is it thick, but it is very kinky and coarse. When I was getting a relaxer, the relaxer tamed it and made my hair much more manageable. This is why I cannot be mad at my mama for relaxing at such a young age. Having such thick hair is time consuming, and product consuming-which means it is also money consuming.
• Two textures/Styling! In a couple of words…killing me. Styles are so hard to do because it seems like one part of my hair will be on point. Defined and cute; then the other rebels and turns into a dry frizz ball mess, forcing me into a bun. I have about 2-3 styles that work for me right now and 2 of those styles are buns.
• Confidence! My confidence hasn’t taken a nose dive, BUT it has been affected. Why? Mostly due to the limited styling options and moisture issues. Basically, when my hair ain’t right, I don’t feel right. Call that insecure or shallow , but for me it’s true.

I have been in this rut for a couple of weeks now. It started after I took out my box braids and had to actually attempt to manage all the new growth and thickness. I was reading Curly Nikki this morning and there was a post about a girl needing encouragement. I wanted to hug her because I am there. I don’t care what anyone says, having relaxed hair is easier. It may not be the most healthy or conducive to growing your hair, but if we were comparing based on manageability alone, I would hands down say relaxer.

All this talk about relaxers…are you really going back??

No. Although it was easier for me, I can’t go back. I have sensitive skin and thick hair. That combination means that I never left a perming session without a chemical burn. Scalp, neck, edges…they have all been burned. One time, I got one so bad on the back of my neck, that it burned to the white meat. I still have a scar on one area. That experience should have been enough to deter me then, but, sadly I was ignorant to any other options.

I am hoping that this really is just a rut, and that my hair has to grow out of its current awkward stage. Many people have suggested that I go ahead and chop to make my life easier. I have thought about BC’ing so much that I think my brain has turned blue. When I began transitioning, I had no set time frame. I just knew that I wanted to be a long term transitioner. Then I made the one year mark. I didn’t have as much new growth as I had pictured in my mind. I do believe I am on track with other naturals at the 12 month post relaxer point, but for some reason I expected more. So as 13 months post peers at me, I have decided that I am going to try to hold out until my 18 month mark. I am a firm believer that my hair prospers most when I just leave it alone and have my hands out of it so I am going to try a couple of cutesy protective styles to get me to my goal.

I am toying with the idea of getting a full sew in, which will last me about 2 months if I take care of it well. Carrying me over into month 15.

After the sew in, I’ll bantu knot and bun it out for a few weeks to give my hair some air and rest, and then get Senegalese twists. Those will definitely last me 2 months; maybe 3 if I play my cards right. Taking me right into month 18.

At 18 months post relaxer, I may cut. I say may because as you get to know me, you'll see that hardly anything in my mind is ever definite.
Here’s to happy growing to me and any other person out there in a hair rut! :)

a hello from me to you.

Per Merriam-Webster

Definition of SOUTHERN
capitalized : of, relating to, or characteristic of a region conventionally designated South
Definition of PROSPERITY
the condition of being successful or thriving;

I figured it’d be most appropriate if I started out with a slight introduction. Ya’ll can call me Kay. I’m a 23 year old young professional in the South. I was born here, raised here, went to college here and mostly likely, will die here. Why do I say that? Simply because I love it. Despite the social stigma that surrounds my beloved home, I am proud of my roots and it is my belief that no other place compares.

I like to consider myself a new era southern belle of sorts. I’m not the typical big blonde hair, deep blue eyes and white skinned southern belle that the world is so accustomed to. No, I am a semi-natural haired, deep brown-eyed, educated, mocha brown-skinned African American. Being a southern belle is more than skin color and status. It’s about values and how you carry yourself. My family holds the utmost importance to me. And, starting my own has been a dream of mine since I was a child.

Okay, so she’s southern…what’s with the prosperity? If you’re familiar with Black Greek Letter Organizations or the “Divine Nine,” I belong to the illustrious organization of Sigma Gamma Rho Sorority, Incorporated. Prosperity was the name given to me by my prophytes or older sisters. I’m proud of it and I strive to prosper in each sector of my life. It’s also fitting for my blog because I want to show people that while the South definitely have its kinks, we’re not all totally and completely backwards. It’s a thriving place and I strongly believe it will continue to prosper.

This blog is not meant to be exclusive to one topic. I am here to share my life, experiences, thoughts, feelings and concerns. What intrigues me, what disgusts me, reviews and so much more. As I have always enjoyed all types of writing, I do consider myself an artist. My main outlet as a child and teen was poetry and short stories. These days, with working and dealing with the stresses of life as a young adult, I have struggled with finding the time and the energy to invest in it like I used to. I guess you can say that this is an attempt to get it back, and also to document this crazy thing we call life. I'm an artist and life is my canvas. I do hope that someone out there will find something positive out of my blogging. Some knowledge, advice or maybe even a laugh or two.

If you do find something that you find likeable let me know! I love meeting new people, having discussions and sharing ideas!