We always want what we don’t have. I’ve found that this is especially true when it comes to hair. Those of us with curly hair want straight hair, those with straight hair want more body and curl. Yada, yada, yada. It’s like some weird universal law that all women must want whatever it is that they don’t already have. I’ve been to approximately 50+ salons in my lifetime and the conversations had with each hairdresser always start out the same: I’m always there to have my hair straightened – they always say “your curls are beautiful” – then I follow it up with “we always want what we don’t have” – they nod in agreement. Every. Flippin’. Time. Personally, I’ve always felt that I look better with straightened hair. I feel more sophisticated. It thins out my face and complements my features. The extra time and money have always been worth it to me. Everyone else in my life, however, has preferred my hair big, wild and curly…so when I do wear it like it appears in the photo above it gives me a sense of pride. Not because it’s how I feel most comfortable or attractive, but because I recognize how much others view it as such. A weird thing, for sure. Is there anybody out there who loves/has always loved the hair that they were born with?
I learned a new word today: ASSUAGE. Pronounced ‘ass-wage.’ It means to soothe; relieve. I found this word when I searched my thesaurus for synonyms to these words – placate, pacify, appease, mitigate. I’ve been in situations recently and in the past where the focus quickly turns to pacifying the victim/innocent party instead of turning our eyes to the crime itself and those who have committed it. Has this ever happened to you? Come sit next to me. *pats chair* Mama needs to get deep for a moment.
Allow me to give you two examples:
I was at a gathering once where those in the group were close-knit co-workers and friends. It was a somber occasion that brought us together but I was there to support and hang out. There was a point in the evening when the host answered the door to greet the pizza delivery guy. I’m not sure what the exchange was but when he came back into the kitchen he unabashedly exclaimed something about blah-blah-blah dumb n_ _ _ _er blah-blah-blah. This was in Chicago, IL. There was a collective breath in and I could feel the heat rising from my neck up to my ears. I blurted out “don’t mind me, I’m just the one with the black mother in the room” or something along those lines. Although everyone else was equally appalled something had to come out of my mouth. After I made my statement I remember everyone immediately turning their attention on me to forgive, dismiss, “oh he didn’t mean it”, etc. Not one person turned to him and said “WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM YOU RACIST PRICK?” It seemed as if the goal there was to make me utter the words “it’s okay” which I absolutely did not. Would not. Never will. It was uncomf to the 3000th degree.
The second example is more recent. With all of this hubbub surrounding our apt. being burglarized I’ve found myself in quite a few conversations where my anger is seen as something that I need to keep in control. I shouldn’t let it ruin my day. What’s done is done. Unfortunately these things happen. There’s nothing that we can do. etc,etc,etc Well you know what? I already know all of that…but I’m completely within bounds to feel irate as fuck. There are people out there that steal and lie and cheat their way through life. Taking what they didn’t earn. And so often our response is to tamp down our own anger even when it’s completely justified and serves a purpose. The message I’m receiving is: something was done to you + those people are bad + it doesn’t matter though because they’ll get away with it + accept that + don’t waste your anger = don’t be angry. It doesn’t compute. I’m furious. I feel helpless. Helplessness is further compounded by receiving the same message from everyone – NOTHING WILL BE DONE ABOUT THIS.
So yes, I’m angry. I’m bitter. But yes, I accept that this is so. When the feeling strikes I won’t ignore myself. I won’t talk myself down. Blogging helps and sometimes it takes an aggressive vent-sesh with a good friend to help you see clearly again. (Thank you, Urs <3) Okay, I’m done. I feel better already. Thank you for permitting this literary explosion.