Loc’d In Love

I’ve been natural for a long time. However, for years, I kept a sew-in, braids, or wigs. After the pandemic, I stopped wearing sew-ins, but everything else still had its place in my routine. The wigs started bothering my edges, the braids were thinning out my crown, and my natural hair never seemed to adjust to heat, humidity, or even cold weather.

At one point of pure frustration about three weeks ago, I said, “I’m over it.” I realized I was spending just as much time, money, and energy trying to maintain something that was supposed to be “freeing.” But if I’m honest, I loved my long, loosely curled wigs and the blonde braids down my back. I liked switching it up. I was and still am a blonde girlie, but what was I afraid of?

For years, I tried to conform. I shaped myself to meet the expectations of others, sometimes without even realizing it. Right before my divorce and throughout the pandemic, that started to shift. I began finding my voice, a new voice — through reading, reflection, and the guidance of people who spoke truth that resonated with me.

Still, I carried old beliefs about what “professional” looked like. Somewhere in my mind, I thought professional meant “polished,” and polished meant straightened, slicked, or styled. It wasn’t the bushy, frizzy, beautiful afro that grew from my scalp.

I remember once adding a soft purple tint to my braids, something fun and expressive, but I quickly deemed the color unprofessional. Meanwhile, I saw white coworkers wear every color under the sun — and no one blinked. It’s a small example of a much larger truth: we’ve been conditioned to believe that some forms of expression are acceptable, while ours need “adjust”.

Impostor syndrome always existed for me, I just didn’t know it. For a long time, I didn’t see it for what it was — a mental conditioning that told me I had to shrink, reshape, and shape-shift to belong. It wasn’t just about hair; it was about identity.

Now that I’m loc’d, I feel free — and strangely, softer. There’s something powerful about not forcing your hair to be anything other than what it is. One of the reasons I loved my braids was because I work out often, and they allowed me to move freely. My locs give me that same freedom — maybe even more. They’re light, low-maintenance, and they feel like an extension of who I truly am.

Maybe one day I’ll switch it up again. But right now, this is me — and I love what I bring to the table.

This journey has shown me something deeper: inclusivity begins with self-inclusion. For years, I’ve advocated for belonging in workplaces and communities — yet I’m learning that true inclusion starts when I stop excluding parts of myself.

I used to fear I wouldn’t be offered a seat at the table, and while that fear had and has many roots, my appearance played its part. But as I continue this journey of authenticity, I’m realizing that my mentality shapes my reality. The more I embrace myself — all of me — the more I attract spaces and people that do the same.

Whether you’re rocking a sew-in, a perm, braids, or locs — I hope you embrace yourself right where you are. That’s the only way others will, too.

Authenticity takes time, and security takes root when we learn to honor every phase of our becoming. So wherever you are in your journey, take a breath, stand tall, and know this: you are enough, right now!

And that’s a kind of freedom no hairstyle can contain.