Hey, I do baddie stuff now!
First of all, I now wear wigs.
Hold on, this is not entirely about wigs. But I bet you probably have two reactions to this piece of information. You’re either teetering on the edge of curiosity. Or maybe you’re on a different plane entirely — eager to finish this piece and understand my gist before you pass your judgment on the workings of my mind. That’s fair.
Sha, whatever your musings are, I’ve made it your business by writing this piece. So, stay here until the last sentence.
When I was a child, I had such thick hair that was perpetually tough — able to go from wet and shiny to hard and tough in the blink of an eye. So, combing it would only give me a mere five-minute respite before it was business as usual. Oh, the struggle was real — it still is — and the visits to my hairdresser’s shop were nothing short of nightmares.
My recollections are lacking, but based on my mother’s accounts, my hair had started to weave itself into tiny dreadlocks even as a baby (explains the coarseness). And while she was even thinking about letting the locs grow, a “man of God saw into my future”, and cautioned her against cutting it. According to his foresight, something would go wrong with my future and glory if she cuts it.
Of course, my mother cut it at that instant because what the fuck do you mean my future is hinged on some locs? And now that I think about it, maybe I don’t have a billion dollars in my account, and life’s showing me shege because she cut it. But that’s not the point. I told you that story to explain the toughness of my hair and why I hated it and still hate it.
So, you’d expect that wigs would be my favorite head accessory, yes? Well, you’d be wrong. Somehow. Let me explain.
You see, I’ve had quite the journey with my hair. I’ve enjoyed having colorful beads in my hair as a child, cutting my hair as a teen, and starting my twenties with an undying love for lengthy braids.
But despite hating my natural hair, I never found a love for wigs. At least, not until recently. I’ll be honest, the hate wasn’t completely unfounded. I didn’t think they looked good on me and they intensified my compression headaches. In fact, being a “wig-girly” always seemed out of character for me.
But times have changed — I like many things now and my friend thinks I’ve finally morphed into a grown woman. These days, you’ll find my lips glistening with gloss. You’ll also find me wearing gowns and fancy grown women’s tops — slaying like a baddie.
Now, the gist is that for me, it’s not about morphing into a woman or doing baddie sturvs. It’s just a testament to the seasons of my existence, and how I am doing quite well(I think?) with embracing change.
You would agree that in a world where change is constant and rapid, it’s essential to find ways to adapt and express ourselves. Because truly, trends come and go, and styles evolve in the blink of an eye. But amidst this ever-changing landscape, I’ve realized that embracing change is not only necessary but also liberating. Perhaps, wearing wigs has now become my own way of keeping up with the speed of transformation. And at the end of the day, I’m just a girl and that’s on periodt!
I have to confess to you that all of the seasons of my life and the changes that have ensued are not exactly rosy. Sometimes, I lose my self-assuredness. But it’s usually as a result of never particularly knowing that I have the power to reinvent myself and adapt effortlessly to the ever-changing world around me. After all, you never really know what you’re capable of until you extend yourself.
In 2015, post-junior school, my confidence chipped away. It was the end of an era and the beginning of another — I was starting a boarding school. But before that year, my confidence was mind-blowing and I sometimes think that was when I peaked. Also before 2019, I found solace in people, art, and music. Poetry, in particular, was the absolute love of my life and I read several genres of books and discovered Sauti Sol, Tay Iwar, Mahalia and Stormzy.
Then in 2019, I battled with crippling depression and lost my sense of adventure and exploration. Boys and girls, it’s 2023. I don’t write or read poetry anymore and I listen to the same people over and over and over again. Tbh, I don’t even know what you kids are listening to these days. Shallipoppi? Lmaoooo
This is not to say that new and beautiful things haven’t happened to me. I have come to see life as a journey that is marked by distinct seasons that shape my experiences, perspectives, and growth. So, I have loved, I am loving and I go to bed shuffling between Tim Lyre, Mannywellz, and Ogranya.
I wear wigs now, I use lip glosses now, I wear pretty tops and these days, I am very happy.
I’m allowing myself to bloom, to grow, to shed, and to rejuvenate. And that’s what truly matters.
