Interesting enough, I have told this story many times of how we began this cascade of love, and I have yet to tell it here—in the place that manifested from the froth at the bottom those great falls.
My natural loc journey started pretty darn cliché on the “why I began my locs” scale. By my third year of college, I had snipped, cut, colored and styled my hair to the point of no return. I had officially grown tired of relaxing my hair. My hair had fallen into an unthriving state. I was done with trying to figure out how to style and keep my processed strands looking decent between relaxings. Nevertheless, I did not readily choose to go natural after coming to any of these realizations within myself.
No, my natural journey began to take shape around year four. Like many spiritual journeys, it followed a paradigm shift in my romantic life and personal perspective. This transition came a bit after my happily ever after shattered on concrete floor, between the time I maxed out a credit card in a day, and Frank’s sly tongue wriggled its way out of his mouth and into my mental.