He doesn’t want me to have them because he thinks they look like “sausages” or something along those lines and my answer to that comparison was “well yeah, maybe if they are like (oh yes I used ‘like’ I was mad…) five inches long and hard as rocks.”
And yeah, some people have dreads that are extremely large and some have dreads that nearly mimic that of a beavers tail (thanks to prettyinpunk420 for that comparison) (which is all good because it is up to you on how you care and handle your dreads) but I am not some people. I want long, brown dreads that hang beautifully down my back, medium in size so they are bendable and able to pull up, twist, and sleep fine on.
Then he asked me “you want them that bad. They mean that much to you?”
And I responded “…yes.”
At that moment I realized just how much I want them.
I would never have fought for a hairstyle or color choice in my life. If you cut it, it grows, if you color it, you can always color it again. But dreads signify something for me…they are more than just a style. For me they are love, they are natural.
We spend so much time in the world, in our life, trying to be something we aren’t. Why should we have others tell us the standards for beauty? What makes us believe that big men in expensive suits know what beauty is? I am just a fresh twenty-one but I am tired of seeing people, who are dubbed “beautiful”, that I cannot compare myself to.
I am starting to be comfortable as being me and I want my hair to be a process in this. I am ready to feel comfortable with knowing that you don’t have to comb your hair and you don’t have to look like everyone. I want to watch my hair form into what its meant to be. I want to pass on to my children (when I have them) that they set their own standards for beauty.
This has gotten longer than I thought it would and I hope I haven’t strayed away from my point too much but I am now ready for dreads and I know I will be happy.