For the women waking up in a life designed by trauma—and choosing to rewrite it with intention.
The Breaking Point: When My Hair Told the Truth
One day, while pulling my hair into a bun, half of a loc snapped off. I froze. When I examined the rest, the story was clear: tension points, breakage, brittle dryness. My once-lustrous locs—five years in the making, from that very first braidloc to number 297—were mirroring my inner world: neglected, exhausted, and under pressure.
Hair is a tell. Mine told on me. What I was holding inside had started to live on the outside.
Summer 2024 was rough.
My marriage felt unsteady, and I was hanging on by a thread. After everything I uncovered during the pandemic, “going back to normal” wasn’t an option. My loc journey became the mirror—showing me what my body and spirit already knew.
“Why Did You Cut Them?”
People assumed I was being impulsive. The questions rolled in: Why? Why now?
My answer was simple: I needed to shed the version of me that was sad, asleep, and stuck in limiting beliefs.
I tried taking them down one by one—detangler, water, and Netflix—but it wasn’t happening. I moved my things into the basement—my processing cave—where I could sit with my feelings without everyone else’s energy and opinions crowding my clarity.
My marriage was rocky. Family and friendships felt more like “I should” than “I want to.” I couldn’t carry the weight of everyone’s judgment and still heal. The scissors were a boundary—and a blessing.
What My Locs Taught Me About Healing
- Your body keeps score. Breakage and brittleness weren’t just “hair issues”—they were grief, over-functioning, and suppressed needs.
- Release is a ritual. Cutting was spiritual housekeeping—shedding old energy to make room for healthy growth.
- External changes amplify internal choices. The more I honored my truth, the more my life started to reflect it back—so did my hair.
What I’ve learned is…
- Healing isn’t always soft; sometimes it sounds like scissors.
- Counting locs matters less than tending to them—same with goals and titles.
- When you stop performing for approval, your life (and hair) get lighter and healthier.
A Year Later: New Growth, New Standards
It’s been over a year. My baby locs are thriving. It only took 21 humid Maryland summer days wearing my hair loose to run back to braiding with intention. I never even counted how many I have now—because that isn’t the metric anymore. Health is.
My locs aren’t for looks. They’re a living reminder: the seeds I plant in my mind bloom into something—radiant beauty or distorted sorrow. I choose my seeds now, on purpose.
Micro-Rituals That Helped Me Reset (From the Inside Out)
- Alone time without apology: Processing is productive. Silence is medicine.
- Boundary check-ins: If it drains my energy, it meets a boundary. (Script your “no” without guilt—see the Boundary-Setting Blueprint.)
- Nervous system soothers: Candlelit showers, box breathing, and morning walks.
- Daily thought hygiene: One “Brain Builder” a day to interrupt the loop and choose a better thought.
- Moisture rituals: Hydration inside and out—water bottle refills + scalp oiling + satin pillowcases.
If You’re Here Too…
If your outer world is telling on your inner world, you’re not broken. You’re being invited to listen. Maybe your version isn’t hair. Maybe it’s skin, sleep, or snapping at everyone. Start where you are. Choose one micro-ritual. Build one boundary. Plant one better thought. Small shifts stack.
Gentle CTA
Ready for a soft reset that actually sticks? Pair 30 Brain Builders to Rewire Your Reality with the Boundary-Setting Blueprint. If you want a seasonal nudge, grab the Autumn Reset Checklist and give yourself 10 minutes a day to come back home to you.
PS: If this hit home, share it with a sis who needs permission to start over—hair, habits, and all.
Speak your mind!