I expect that everyone who makes a major lifestyle change has that symbolic act that represents to themselves and to the world a new beginning. Perhaps it is the cutting up of a credit card, the tossing of a whole pack of cigarettes into the trash or the dusting off of a book of neglected sacred literature.
I often reflect on what act encouraged me to transition to a more sustainable, natural lifestyle. One defining moment that gave me the courage to ignore cultural expectations and be true to myself was the decision in the fall of 2006 to cut my hair.
What's the big deal about that? Well, I had never before cut my hair more than a few inches. I loved the feel of my hair brushing my shoulders and blowing in the wind, and to be honest, I was somewhat beholden to a popular cultural expectation that beautiful woman have long, straight hair. All of a sudden, I said poo to that. I wanted to wear my hair in its natural state.
Below, my before and after pictures:
Now, getting a relaxer is considered a rite of passage among many women in African-American culture. My first relaxer was a no-lye "Just for me" kiddie perm I received at age 10. I was hooked for the next 15 years. Over time I started to learn certain things about myself: I didn't like seeking out beauticians or sitting in their shops for half my Saturdays to get my hair done. I tired of shelling out $60 for a retouch -- not including the cost of its "support staff" of conditioners, hair sprays, cremes and gels -- and spending so much time wrapping, curling, rolling and drying my hair (relaxed hair doesn't air dry well). I also questioned the wisdom of loading my hair up with lye and other chemicals on a regular basis.
I did face some discouragement from family members when I told them I was considering going natural. To this day my mother occasionally asks if I am growing my hair back ("you've got to look presentable at work!")
But I found courage in peers who had made the change years before and had gorgeous afros or locks as proof that going natural didn't mean looking unkempt (although I admit I've since had my own bad hair days). That little bit of empowerment emboldened me to pursue other steps, such as changing my diet and narrowing overall the types of chemicals I will allow in my home.
My biggest learning lesson was that most of the opposition I feared didn't exist. The world didn't stop turning and I received more compliments than criticism.
What was your symbolic act and do you regret it?