...wait. Let me explain!
I've considered my hair to be bad when it wouldn't do what I wanted it to do. Maybe it wouldn't hang, was difficult to style or detangle. Maybe it wasn't long enough for a special updo. Maybe it wasn't thick enough--I love big hair. Maybe I imagined other people looking at me and wondering when I was planning to do something with that hair of mine.
Once I thought this experience had everything to do with my texture, but now that I've embraced my texture I realize that bad hair days come with having hair. It's inevitable that one day my hair won't cooperate with my expectations and I just can't take myself too seriously. It's the same thing with my girls.
In a perfect world I would be consistent with washing their hair right when I know it's time, but in my world the unexpected is expected. I find myself having to sit with the knowledge that it should be done but couldn't be done. It always turns out OK anyway. It's the same with styling.
I've embraced the fuzz, but a special occasion is still not the time I want to practice acknowledging that nappy hair is fuzzy and celebrate the benefits of letting it do what it does. There's still a part of me that is concerned that Aunt MeansWell may pull me aside and chide me for not taking the time to groom my girls properly before taking them out of the house. As difficult as it is, I have come to appreciate the times I've had no choice but to sit with the discomfort, because life happens and we can't always control everything.
If maintenance and grooming means I'm ripping through my girls hair and snarling at everybody...maybe it's time to stop and just throw my hands up. I've done it, but my goal is to do it less. In a perfect world--never again.
So whatever the circumstance, we can go anywhere with our heads held up. Nobody is perfect and it's guaranteed that the person who is invading your space with their unwanted opinion has been where you are OR will be.