I Skyped with my mother for over an hour today

after talking on the phone with her for almost an hour and then talking on the phone with her again for about half an hour afterwards. The purpose of our video chat was so that I could see her newly shaved head, so as to be able to weigh in on the topic of whether she should wear her bald head to work when school starts again in September or hide under hot ass wigs for the next two years or so until her hair grows back to a length similar to what it was before. 

As soon as the video connected, a smile slowly spread across my whole face. One of those genuine full smiles that I try not to do in pictures because I don’t like the way it makes my face look. 

My mom: What?

Me: I think you’re beautiful.

My mom: Stop lying.

Me: No, I’m serious. I think it looks great.


This is about how much hair is on my mom’s head right now. It’s salt-and-pepper, but mostly salt. She’s “…getting used to” it. I feel like I’m finally seeing her for the first time, and I love what I see. I love the unencumbered view of her face; it says “this is me. This is all I am and all I have for you.” It is vulnerability and beauty all wrapped up into one. 

Maybe I’m romanticizing it. This isn’t happening to me. It is, however, making me remember how wonderful it was to feel like I was seeing myself for the first time when I went natural. It’s making me revisit the idea of getting a (fairly drastic) haircut. 

I am intrigued by tapered fros, a la:

My mom and Choosing Pancakes love it. KS doesn’t think I could pull it off. EY is hesitant to say maybe. What say you?  

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About alaiyo0685

I'm a kind of quirky, pretty stubborn, way too opinionated, twenty-something, intellectual, introspective, queer, Black, female, in a polyamorous relationship, and this is where I try to figure out my life.

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