Tangled

When I was about 8 or 9 or so, when still living with my biological mom I started doing my own hair.  Not really by choice but by necessity of the situation.  I had a ton of hair and almost no knowledge of how to take care of it.  I was only equipped with cheap shampoo, a round brush, and a bunch of hair elastics.  Lacking conditioner, already I was doomed.....

I remember sitting on the step trying to braid my hair.  I noticed that there were a few knots in the back, but I just yanked a bit to get the strands enough to braid.  Each day, instead of dealing with a little bit of pain from combing through the knots I just yanked and braided, yanked and braided.

It didn't take too many weeks before my hair was in chunks.  And shortly after that the brush never really reached the inward tangle of said chunks.  I sort of regretted where it had gotten, but I couldn't bear the thought of even attempting to comb it all out.  It would have been excruciating.

This went on for over a year; this was way beyond dreads, that's for sure.  So I just left it.  It got to the point where I wouldn't have been physically able to comb it out myself.  There was a huge mat of hair at the back of my head and I was so self-conscious if anyone attempted to touch my hair.  I was ashamed that I had let it get that bad.  So I hid it.

When I was 10, I met a girl at school who became a good friend.  Her name was Christina and her mom was Yvonne, but everyone just called her Bonnie.  Bonnie actually lead me to the Lord and I spent a lot of time at their house and eventually I told them of my hair predicament and they helped me.  It took WEEKS of daily combing through and tubs of conditioner, tackling bit by bit, with a lot of tears and aching scalp.  But finally it was done and after years I was able to run my hands through my wet hair, because you never go through dry curly hair.  It was absolutely amazing, so much so that I cried.

Okay, there are a lot of layers here.  This situation was sad for a number of reasons.  Maybe I'll blog more about my childhood with my biological mom.  This reflection has very little to do with my hair, but about my thoughts on relationships.

Relationships require constant attention and care.  Sometimes the maintenance is easy, sometimes it's difficult and painful.  If the relationship is neglected, it becomes tangled, then if left, matted and then it just feels like it would be impossible to salvage.  As if it would have been an option to shave my head at age 10.  Cut it off and start again? Really?  I think it's the same with most relationships.  Granted there are relationships that you need to walk away from, but the majority of our relationships are too valuable to toss on the heap and saunter away when things get messy.

Anyways, I've been thinking about relationships and how they really take a lot to maintain as healthy.  It's daunting task but it's a life long endeavour certainly not for the faint of heart.  So I remember my hair, I remember how I avoided dealing with it, I remember the long painfully process and finally having my hair back.  It would have been so much less grief had I just worked to maintain it.  That thought inspires me and gives me hope.