My Hair is an extension of Me



Before

India Arie was spot on when she said "I am not my hair". Of course not. Your hair is, however, an extension of who you are and more often than not it places you firmly in a box that the less than open-minded will always put you in. For close to two years I have had dreadlocks and very often people would call me "Jah", "Rasta" and whatever else that relates to rastafarianism. People on the street often asked me for a cigarrette lighter. At first I used to think; "Damn, my lips obviously tell a story of my chain smoking ways," but I increasingly realised that my hair told the story that I probably always have a joint to smoke in my possession and would therefore have a light to burn it up when I need it. I have now cut my hair short. I'm not yet sure if I'm going to go through with dyeing it silver grey as I've been saying to my friends. Maybe I'll just shave it all off. Maybe I'll rock a mohawk. Maybe I'll just let it be... For now. But whatever I do with it it will be what I feel in my soul as that is what dictates who I am and what I feel. What I feel is who I am and my hair, therefore, is an extension of me.

After