Oddbod & The City: All Loced Up

I am the sort of woman who hates to have too many options. I get all kinds of anxiety when big decisions need to be made and fret about making the wrong choice.

Sometimes I deliberately procrastinate until some of the options available to me have eliminated themselves, and I have no choice but to take a particular path, even if this was not the best option on the table. This habit has got to be one of the most annoying character flaws I have and, trust me, I am working on it.

About a month ago, I finally got to the final bus stop concerning my hair. The hair is too fine to straighten chemically, traction alopecia was not allowing me to be great and rock braids without consequence, and I don’t know who cursed me, but I can’t wear wigs or weaves without getting a headache.

It came to me in the shower that I only have two choices left to me at this point:

  1. I shave everything off and pray to my Sky Daddy that I have a nicely shaped head
  2. I loc up my natural hair and leave it to its own devices.

I figured I would go for option two in this case because if it didn’t suit, option one was still on the table. I have a few family members successfully, regally, and beautifully sporting the look, so I was able to get some great advice and linked to the correct professionals to aid my cause.

My mother’s ancestral spirit is strong in me, so the first thing I decided that had to happen was to get my Afro dyed. I had a plan to go a lighter brown and add some highlights, but when I got to my appointment, I started pointing at all the colours of the rainbow and ended up coming out a tad more festive than I anticipated.

There is a little post-traumatic stress involved in making such a drastic change, and there should be more of a warning offered to a girl before she takes such a plunge. I spent the next week sheepishly wrapping my hair in a scarf and ignoring all requests to see what I had done.

The week after, I booked my loctician to come in and place the micro locs. My research in this matter led me to meet and talk with many in the field, and I was offered quotes from “it’s going to cost 200,000 Naira and take two days and included a training course”, and “we can’t book you in for another five weeks”, to “it will cost you 50k (Naira), and I can come over right now and sort you out”. As I mentioned before, I don’t have much in the hair department, so it was a 10-hour mission with two women on the job.

It turns out this situation is a little less leave my hair to its own devices than I thought. The whole process is going to take about 18 to 24 months to complete. Meanwhile, my hair will go through all sorts of different phases, and the care of the hair at each stage is slightly different.

Right now, I have to be careful not to over manipulate my new locs or be tempted to put too much product in there. Then I am to expect growth and swelling, and the locs will hopefully double in size—sounds a bit like magic to me, but I am hopeful and excited. Then it will be growth and fabulousness and badassery.
Wish me luck!

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