Embracing My Mane or Am I Navigating Self Love?
Song Of The Week
Ah, "Big Love Ahead" by Mon Rovia—this track is like a warm hug wrapped in a confetti explosion! With its irresistible beat and catchy melodies, it catapults you straight into a daydream where love flows like a chocolate fountain at a whimsical carnival.
Mon Rovia masterfully blends indie pop with a sprinkle of funk that tugs at the heartstrings and makes your feet tap uncontrollably. The lyrics? They read like a declaration of optimism, beseeching us to open our hearts wide, like an umbrella during a sudden downpour of affection. The chorus is a euphoric anthem, showcasing the glowing promise of love and connection, and before you know it, you’re belting along with joyous abandon.
That's the brilliance of "Big Love Ahead"—it captures the essence of feeling invincible, wrapped in a cocoon of positivity. It's like drinking a slushie on a hot summer day—refreshing, electrifying, and oh-so-sweet! In a world that sometimes feels like it’s stuck in a traffic jam of dreariness, this song zooms by with powerful melodies and vibrant rhythms, guiding us all toward a bright future.
So, grab your headphones, crank up the volume, and let Mon Rivia be your soundtrack as you dance through life with unshakable hope. After all, when love's written in the stars, as this song suggests, what else could you possibly need?
Mixed-Girl
When people first meet me, there is always one thing that stands out. I guess you could say it makes me memorable. It is so noticeable that you see it before you even notice my face! Everyone tells me they love it or compliments it. However, I always feel like they are lying because they only do so when my hair is ‘done.’ Although I know they mean well, it is actually one of my greatest insecurities. Not many people know that. They just assume I love it because they love it, but it’s not that simple.
That, folks, is my hair—my curly, dry, frizzy, lion’s mane, or big puff, and on good days, She/Her. I know, gasp and ooh, you never could have guessed it. She is a lot of work, more than normal, so let me tell you the truth, and you’ll see my point of view.
Love and Hate
Let’s start with a question that goes back to 2001 when my mom met my dad, and they had me. My mother is Japanese and Korean, while my dad is African American. My mother knew that our hair wouldn’t be easy to manage with two girls. Back in the day, interracial relationships had no guidebooks or how-tos for mixed children’s hair care. My parents tried every type of hairstyle in the book—relaxers, braids, blunt bobs, etc.—before I turned sixteen. None of them gave me the feeling of being a pretty girl in my eyes. Even at an early age, I fell victim to European beauty standards. I felt pretty only when my hair was straight and labeled it “more manageable.” This false equivalence led me to straighten my hair every day for about a year in high school. And it was true, more people tended to like me when I followed European beauty standards. I got way more attention from boys, more compliments, more friends. Until I had the worst schedule my second semester: swim for my third block class.
There was no way I could keep my routine with having contact with water midday! That led me to stop caring about my wild curls. It was unavoidable. I had to learn to take care of my hair, researching the best and cheapest products to use, porosity, curl patterns, and curl type. Since then, I have always let my hair out. Eight years in, and I am still learning how to take care of her.
Through trial and error and many failed bleaching attempts, the only thing gained is perseverance. Not only am I alone on this journey, but I have also been experimenting, meaning I have been wasting money and time. Four hours a week times four weeks equals sixteen hours a month that I am putting in work to do my hair. Sixteen hours times twelve months equals one hundred ninety-two hours a year. One hundred ninety-two hours times twenty years equals three thousand eight hundred forty hours of my life. Jeez. It’s crazy to calculate; most people don’t even think twice about doing their hair. When you get to a certain level, you get tired of detangling it, washing it, deep conditioning it, styling it, and protecting it, and you wonder, is it worth all the hassle? Do I enjoy it? Not really. Do I have a choice? Also, not really. Was I just born this way? Yeah. I am just ranting. I just want to be lazy. Honestly, I just want to be Beyoncé for once and say, ‘I woke up like this, flawless.’
This journey is uniquely my own, and I have to come to terms with that. I have to accept the difficulties and either do it or not. It’s a love-hate relationship, very toxic to understand, might I add. I know that I could never get anyone to understand my pain; the only thing we both can do is enjoy the outcome.
Lab Rat
Fast forward to the present, and I have always pondered this question. One that makes me rethink the products I use because who knows what works and what doesn’t. I have struggled trying to figure it out since I do not have a laboratory or a white coat. I just have to buy it and see. Being mixed comes with its own cultural and societal baggage. On the other hand, I hardly witness any scientific breakthroughs on the topic.
My question is, does my hair choose one gene type over the other, or is my hair actually a blend between Asian and African hair?
I have tried to do my own research with you guessed it, my Blasian squad. Most, if not all, my childhood friends are Blasian—I know, haha. Even with different parents, we all look similar. Except for one thing: our hair. Some have more of the Asian gene, while the other half have more of the African American gene that shines through—slight waves, super-duper curly, soft, thick, thin, etc. Amongst ourselves, we find it difficult to help each other since our hair reacts so differently to different products. Clearly, it could be a percentage game, 46% Asian and 54% African, more or less. Depending on your levels, your qualities will be different compared to others. If you think about it, it is kind of bizarre biology.
Finding the answers, I hope would mean that I could transform my hair into soft and silky, that I could brush in less than ten minutes. What a dream! Unfortunately, my hair is my biggest nemesis. Instead, it takes me about four hours every week to make it look good. Even then, my hair dries the way it wants, so I have little to no control over its appearance. However, the idea of learning the truth about my hair is something I would really like to get to the bottom of. Then, I would know what to use, what to buy and maybe, just maybe, on small possibility my hair can be soft. And finally, gain some self-confidence with my hair. Ha! I wish it were that easy.
Inside Out
With that, I present to you "Big Love Ahead" by Mon Rovîa, a beautiful song about self-love. A topic that has more layers than an onion, yet the core needed to keep yourself together. Everyone has insecurities that we fall prey to from the unspoken societal box that only alludes to POCs and only uses us as a what-not-to-look-like. Truly damning. As a 23-year-old, there are things I am dealing with that I have to undo for myself. This song sets the tone. I do deserve to be in this world. I deserve to feel beautiful, and I deserve to push mountains. I deserve to unapologetically, wholeheartedly exist naturally.
Enjoy This Journey With Me
° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °
Enjoy This Journey With Me ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °
This isn’t the end—just a bookmark in the conversation. Stories don’t really close; they unfold, shift, and find new voices. If this one stirred something in you, let it breathe. Leave a thought, challenge an idea, or carry it forward in your own way. And if you ever feel like wandering through more unfinished thoughts, you know where to find me. Let’s keep the conversation alive. ~XOXO
