Monday, September 24, 2012

Transitioning hair: Life after getting extensions!

Today, I just feel like chit chatting about all and nothing.

A bit of update about the past couple of months. I know I haven't been posting much on this blog. Between summertime, new projects (hopefully) coming to life with the assistance of my Helpers (Michael, Gabriel, Jophiel and my other pals at the Abundance & Prosperity corner), I'm assured that all will be inspired by the Light and Good.

But enough about that.

My summer has been a blast. After a few years of focusing on babies, moving from one country to another, Honey and I have finally gotten around to taking some VACA - well deserved, shall I add.

We spent a few weeks with chéri's family. Knowing that I'd be out of my beauty comfort zone, I decided to try out something I had only done once or twice before: putting on extensions.

As my hair is what I call "heat transitioning" - meaning that it had gotten severely damaged from all the blow drying and straight-ironing to camouflage its natural kinky-frizzy self, I gave myself a moment of "let's pamper what and who I am naturally". I know, it sounds ridiculous in a world where everything is attainable, even if by means of a laser or injections. But I've chosen the route of getting to know and love ME.

We're taught to believe that we have flaws that we should cover up or transform. I, for myself, have chosen preventive measures. I don't actually do things to my body that would (maybe) harm it. Doing sports and giving up on sweet juices were what I was the most reluctant about. But, little by little, learning about each of my actions' consequences on my mind and body, I've come to peace with those (nasty) habits.

Ok. Let's come back to the extension parts. So, I looked everywhere to find the type of procedure that would be good for me - one that does not require pulling of my hair, one that still makes it possible to wear my hair in a ponytail, and one that will, just like my hair, get crazy-frizzy after my yoga in the heat of Africa's morning sun or after a nice time at the pool (I have one in my house, so ....).

I finally found a hidden beauty parlor, in an unexpectedly "almost popular" neighborhood. The lady learned a technique in Brazil, adapted to girls who are generationally mixed and have hair that is not kinky-kinky but not smooth curly enough to be easily manageable.

What she did was great. I can't really explain how she did it. I know it took almost 12 hours total to make. My ass was literally burning, coming out of the hair salon way after midnight that day. But I can say that it was worth it.

Two days later, I was able to shampoo my hair, treat it with my ayurvedic oils just like I always do. It was really same as mine. Well, it was actually mine - I did pay for it! ;-)

So, we did a couple of weeks in Côte d'Ivoire, only to come back to Dakar to spend another 10 days or so with my mother and other family members who had come to visit us. Lucky for us.... this enabled us to leave our house and leave the babygirls with grandma (a young, hot, good looking "doesn't-look-like-a-grandma piece of innocent beauty) - for another couples of weeks. Teddy bear and I traveled to Europe - well, France - a little bit of Paris, a piece of Monaco and a good chunk of Corsica and the beach, everywhere, everyday - on the boat, in the islands - just pure heaven. And all that, without ever worrying about how my hair would be after this walk in the mountain or that day on the boat.

Coming back though, I started to feel the itch. I call it that because that's when I start having that voice in my head telling me I wanna change style. Nothing was really wrong with my hair except that, after a couple of months of long, gorgeous, Sofia Vergara tresses, I wanted to get back to me.

Yesterday, I finally made the move. I spent more than 4 hours carefully removing each microscopic piece of the fake stuff. The more I removed, the more I actually got disgusted to see what looked like dead stuff on my white towel. At the end, trying to comb through my hair was another challenge. I had forgotten that my own personal gift - my hair, that is - is sometimes fussy - and this time, it wanted to make me pay for having put it away for such a long while.

After what felt like eternity, I decided to bristle brush. At first, carefully, but then, the urgency of removing knots got a hold of me. So, I went on a mission - and I succeeded. My hair, as far as it's concerned though, lost the battle and tons of pieces along with it.

So yes, trying to comb and brush through, I lost tons of hair. It didn't fall from my hair, but almost. What a mess it was.

All that to say that I feel weird feeling my scalp and really, feeling not much of my old thick kinky lovely. A friend of mine, who happens to be caucasian and who had had extensions, told me that it's normal to feel like you don't have much hair left, after removing 4 packages of thickly smooth hair that is actually not yours. Needless to say, I can't wait for my hair to come back to normal.

I learned a lesson. I had fun, but maybe, being just me with all the "what am I gonna do with my hair today" moments is just ok. Fool me once, it's my fault, fool me twice - well, I won't be fooled again.

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