I can trace back my addiction to at least the age of fourteen. Maybe before, but yes fourteen definitely hailed the beginning of my addiction to the creamy crack. Jheeze when I think about it now Amy Winehouse really doesn't have anything on me (although we do get high of a different kinda stuff). I mean my longest hiatus from the creamy crack within the past ten years cannot be longer than four months. And at certain times of my life it hasn't even reached one. And the sad truth is that I am not alone.
Millions of Black Women, Nubian Queens, around the world are addicted to their hair relaxer. It can burn our scalp, break our hair, and bring on alopecia but we still hold on to that creamy crack like a baby crying out for milk from their mother’s bosom. It’s like after the first hit, we get so high that whatever the weather we are as loyal to our drug like a crack fiend. As I sit here writing this post I'm trying to work out when I can fit my next hair appointment in so I can get my retouch. The thought of letting my hair be is as scary as a crack fiend contemplating rehab. Not because I don't love my natural hair, quite the contrary.
My problem is I've been addicted to this stuff for so long I'm afraid of the unknown. I have a perception in my mind that if I leave my hair to just be somehow I won't be able to manage it, or I won't have versatility of styles, or it will take me too long to get ready in the morning, or when it rains I will not be able to leave my house for the next three days trying rescue it from the weather (I live in London and it rains all the time), or etc etc etc and so the excuses continue. So if my myths are unfounded, or you have some ideas how to wean a Nubian Queen off, or you’re just going through the same thing... please feel free to leave a comment.
CREAMY CRACK
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