My hair used to control me.

She was not kind and was so rude for the world to see.

Because mine was not like everyone's that I wanted to be.

Growing up in a majority white school, only straight blonde hair was cool.

Mine would be unruly, unkept and make me a fool.

Flowing and glowing was the way hair was to be

But kinky and braided was more my reality!

Me and my brown kinky hair would argue and fight,

There were no long golden tresses to provide me with delight.

My hair kept me in the dust, while all the the other girls had the hair that was a must

Magazines and beauty standards caused me to believe this too

Soon I was staightening my hair weekly so I could be like Becky Sue  

I thought I loved the results,  there were less insults,

However I could not keep up this time consuming routine, 

Soon my hair was getting thin and falling out--I had to start doing my own thing

I had to love and show the real me.

Slowly I realized my hair had such versatility,

Kinky, straight or curly was all within me 

My hair was becoming my friend-- full of possibility

Some days I am straight and some days my 'fro is high and wide

It can be corn rows, dred locks, box braids or afro puffs.

Styling my hair was no long a chore--it became a must!

I wear my hair for me--long and short or anything in between

I got this on lock because I am an African queen

People can say what they want but now I don't care

Because I love and embrace my hair

But not for you--just for me

You see me loving and accepting my hair is my only priority!