My Natural Hair Wedding Journy

I had dreamt about having flowing and beautiful on my wedding day, but cut them 10 months before my wedding. On my big day, I wore my hair in splendid cornrows and twists with golden embellishments as seen above. The ending result was from a beautifully challenging journey of re-learning my natural hair.

My locking journey

I had worn 2 sets of locks for a little over 11 years. I loved my hair with a love I never had for any natural hairstyle. My locks became my children. I didn't let any and everybody touch them, and if I went to someone who was subpar, I would cajole my locks and soothe them because I knew when my hair didn't like the treatment.

I started locking in 1999. It was something I wanted to do so bad and finally conjured up the courage to lock. I must confess, some of it had to do with Lauryn Hill's beautiful mane and E. Badu, but shortly after, I found out that both started locking with faux locks, or synthetic hair.

E. Badu actually never locked her hair, but wore faux locks. In the natural community that was a serious faux pas. I remember E. Badu responding to the criticism by saying something like, "I may have processed hair, but I don't have a processed mind." It was a great comeback, but I was one of those sisters who was disappointed.

Nevertheless, that did not deter my process. I went to the IFBA, a locking shop in Leimert Park, an area known for black arts in Los Angeles. After about an hour I walked about when I realized that the woman was weaving my hair similar to sister locks. I wanted the old school palm roll locks. A beautiful version of Bob Marley ropes. So I went to a woman named Renee, who goes by the name of Mama Nene. Her locks swing by her thighs. They were thick and beautiful and shining.

Mama Nene worked at Good Fred's in Los Angeles. It is an old school unisex salon that is a legend in the black community. Everyone knows La Rutan, Good Fred's for either the eccentric owner, Good Fred, or the lively activity that goes on in the shop.

I went to Mama Nene and she told me to wash my hair frequently and allow it to lock on its own for about 6 months. She said my hair would begin to form these baby locks or thick tangle strands naturally. All I had to do was keep them separated, clean and moisturized.

As I later found out, it sounded a lot easier than it was. The photo above is my second time locking. It was a lot easier because I knew what to expect, but the first time around was very difficult. I was a journalist and wore my hair wrapped almost every day for about 6 or 7 months. I was ashamed of my wild child, knotting hair. And I was ashamed that I was ashamed of my hair. Me? The queen of naps, didn't like what she saw, and it resonated to the world because I didn't get a date for about 8 months.

I dealt with feelings of being unattractive and the most natural state of my hair. No gels, no press and comb, no comb at all, just locking.

I came face-to-face with what the media had told me all my life was ugly, my kinky African hair and all of its complexities. Some of the men folk thought I was crazy and some women (all black) told me in various ways that it was unprofessional. In Los Angeles in the late 90s, locking was not trending and really not cute.

I wasn't in the comfort of being on the East Coast anymore where women were way advanced in locking. I was in the weave and extension capital. Beauty was defined by the length of the weave you wore or the fake curly hair you attempted to get so you wouldn't look too black, but something like an ethnically vague woman of color.

I had to learn how to love me and my hair and get over my vanity.

Also, I learned that wrapping your hair was slowing down the process of growth because my scalp wasn't breathing. I am also still convinced that sun on our hair provides essential nourishment. So I made a bold decision to let my hair be free, and thus I freed myself from many hang ups.

As time went on, I began to really, really love my hair and its versatility.

I created a regimen that was doable and inexpensive. I learned how to roll my own hair, and begin to explore multiple products that were natural and for textured hair.

I went through goo-gobs of products, but learned that simplicity worked the best for me.

There were lots of highs with my hair, and some low points. I loved my hair when it was washed, rolled, braided and let go in a cascading crinkle. I loved it in the sun and I loved the compliments, especially by people who had never seen locked hair nor have been close to it. One of the few things I hated were people who thought they could come and touch my hair as if I were a zoo animal. Most of the time it was white folk who were amazed and some black people that were inquisitive. I would get the common statement from women, "I could never wear my hair in locks. This looks good on you." Yawn.

But my hair was fabulous.

But something in me itched about cutting them for a year leading into my engagement in February 2010. A woman once asked me, how many beds have your locks lain in? Though it was a legitimate question, it wasn't the reason why had cut them. I got married at 35, and quite frankly had been in quite a few bedrooms and am not ashamed to say I have lived, neither was my husband.

We were mature about the fact that we had lived, but there was something to say about the energy I had picked up along the way.

I wanted to cut my locks, which were almost down to the base of my back because they were heavy and the energy of them was driving me out of my mind. I used to be a lifeguard and am a water baby, and I began to have difficulty in swimming years before because my hair became cumbersome. One vivid experience was when I was in Culebra, Puerto Rico and got caught in some rough waves. Things got very scarey when my hair wrapped around my face and neck making it difficult for me to breathe or see.

The photo below is me on the trip in 2009. Though I loved the knotty dread rides again, I didn't like that I was being hindered from enjoying my favorite form of exercise, swimming.

Also, hair has energy and my locks were personal antennae that picked up peoples emotions and thinking. Sounds crazy, but ask anyone with locks, how extra-sensitive they get around people.

But overall, it was time for a anew. I had several lock stylists combine my locks without me knowing and several nights of clipping some off, and my edges were getting real thin.

So I did the unthinkable. Cut them off in the middle of winter, January 2009. My husband who is a barber had the pleasure of shearing my hair and putting some creative designs.

Though it was such a relief, my head was cold. Yikes, what was I thinking. So I wore caps and knitted headgear for about five months to grow out my hair.

One thing I didn't expect was the hard process of re-learning how to comb and care for my hair. When I cut my locks I discovered that my edges were very fragile and had thinned more than I knew and my scalp was very dry and damaged. I was heart-broken. My scalp was dry and itchy and needed a lot of TLC.

Even though my hair looked "soft" and healthy, it was brittle and two seconds from falling out. I ordered all type of products from Carol's Daughter to African Formula. They offered an initial relief of providing moisture, but it was only temporary. Within days my hair was dwindling and my scalp was sore from scratching.

To make matters worse, the harsh elements of Jersey cold weather and the heat, plus the chlorine from the indoor pools, along with the hot yoga was such a challenge. I didn't know what do do.

On top of that, as a grad student, I had limited financial resources to take care of my hair. Six months after my wedding engagement my husband and I had an engagement party in his home state of New Jersey. I waited for the last minute to get my hair done and thought it would be an easy process.

The woman I wanted, Ndjetti, was booked, and the other alternatives were dirty braiding shops in New Jersey. I decided to take a chance on a new shop that had just opened, Cut Creators. The co-owner Omar put a product of honey in my hair and worked his magic.

After two months doing hot yoga, my hair was a mess and undernourished. I thank Omar for the hair and Kamal for the eye threading.

My wedding was 2 months away and I had to continue to get into shape and take care of my hair. I was using simple oils such as coconut oil, but the temperature's in the Bikram yoga studio were killing my hair follicles. A friend recommended I use Darcy's Botanicals daily conditioner and hair cream.

This started to help my hair begin to thicken and soften.

I also had my aha moment when my future sister-in-law ran down her hair regimen, something that I had not had in a long time. I started to do things like co-wash, and rinses and lovingly comb my hair. Yes, I thought wonderful thoughts when I combed my hair.

By the time I was ready for my engagement photos, I was quite proud of my afro. I call it afrolicious because it was thick, untamed and sexy.

One of my bridesmaids, Tasha, suggested that I go to her natural hair stylist, and I am glad I did. I was still tender-headed and feared braiders, but this sister was gentle and she saturated my hair in needed shea butter. She added some synthetic hair for my twists at the top, and sent me on my way to jump the broom with Duane Reed.

Nine months later I have learned so much about my hair and myself. I am still that wild child who lets her hair do its thing. But I respect the delicate nature of my textured hair.

I have created my own hair cream and working on an oil that is heavenly.

That's me in South Africa this past January 2011, one year after the big chop. Enjoying my fro and good company.