¡En Tu órbita!

I need your therapy

About an hour ago, I was in Walmart looking for my conditioner because today is wash day for my hair. As I’m looking for my product, this older white lady approaches me and she says, “Excuse me, miss. Please don’t be offended by this.” And usually when white people tell me not to be offended, 9 times out of 10, whatever they are about to say is going to be offensive af.

Anyway, she follows it up with, “My husband and I just recently won our custody battle with our foster daughter and she means the world to us. She’s a beautiful African American girl and her hair looks a lot like yours. But I’m afraid because I don’t know what to do with her hair. It’s a lot different from mines and our other children and we are at a total loss. I’ve tried looking up the YouTube videos and my husband went to the braiding shops so they can teach him how to properly braid her hair, but he’s still pretty new and it will be a while before he gets used to it. Do you have any tips you can give me? If you don’t have the time, it’s okay, really! I just needed a little advice because I want her to look beautiful.”

Y’all. swear I almost started crying on aisle 6. So for the last 30 minutes, I spent my time talking to her and what products to use and how to properly detangle and comb her hair with the proper tools and what not to do with natural hair. And I showed her a bunch of easier to follow natural hair tutorials on YouTube and saved them for her. (I also had to create a YouTube account for her so she could save it for later.) but omfg, she was so sweet, and I could tell that she listened to every single thing I had to say and she took little notes on her little notepad.

And what really filled my heart was the fact that her husband actually taking classes from African braiding shops. And she showed me a picture of him wearing a little sweater vest and loafers in a little shop surrounded by beautiful black women showing him how to braid black hair and even the lady he’s braiding on is guiding his hands. And omfg. Bless these old white people and their black daughter who I know have new loving parents because they are willing to step out of their comfort zone just to make her feel and look beautiful.

I really hope our paths cross again one day, Mrs Cicilia. 💖💕

I don’t know who I am anymore.

I’m forever questioning someone’s intentions.

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.”

— C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves