Today I am proud to introduce Diva Martine, a friend and colleague of mine who is also new to being natural. If I recall correctly Martine did her big chop a month or so after me. I was so happy that yet another friend had decided to make the commitment to big chop and grow natural healthy hair! Martine is absolutely beautiful however when she strolled into the office after her big chop she looked amazingly stunning. There was a glow about her that beamed with confidence and to be honest...FREEDOM! Sit back and enjoy today's tale...
Tale of Diva Martine's Big Chop by Diva Martine
I have to admit that my experience with going "au-natural" was an emotional roller-coaster. The events that led up to my big-chop were dramatic.
I was addicted to the weave like no one's business. Had it not been for the constant itch under the weave that only worsened in the summer months, I would have rocked my luxurious, store-bought locks forever. I even learned to weave my own hair. But with the recession, I needed a cheaper alternative which was a little easier to maintain. Like a total addict, I sunk deeper into my Remy obsession and discovered lace-fronts. "This is it!" I told myself as I hit the 'purchase' button for my first $400 lace front wig. It seemed simple enough: put some glue on my forehead, place the wig on and voila! In hindsight, I should have tested this theory before my trip to Paris. My lace front seemed to have a mind of its own and it did everything possible to run away from me while in Paris. The glue didn't help, it just ended up peeling the skin on my temples. Did I learn? Not at all. I went back to weaves---anything in order to keep from seeing and dealing with my own hair. Needless to say, my hair started to fall out.
Like most sistahs I ran to my beautician and begged her to save me and my hair. My beautician—let’s call her Myra---seemed a bit irked that I had conveniently dropped off the face of the earth for three years and all of a sudden I needed her. But Myra did her magic and used glue to put in pieces where I had little to no hair. BIG MISTAKE! My hair continued to break and at this point I was practically bald. So I did what any rational minded person would do. I ran to another salon and this time, the stylist cut all my hair down to about 1/2 inch and plopped some relaxer in it. Ahhh! I had that sleek Halle Berry look, even though it lasted about three days. Darn the heat which only supported my kinks to spring up. "Whatever, I’ll just have to go to the salon twice a week," I thought. My workdays were quite stressful because everything revolved around getting out of work on time so I could be in the stylist's chair by 6pm in order to get home by midnight. After three months of this I had enough! Work became even more demanding and I could no longer manage my compulsive salon routine. I went two weeks without going to the salon and I even decided to rebel and wash my own hair; how hard could it be? I knew that I hit rock bottom when I threw down $200 for a wig that I hadn't even tried on because I just couldn't let people at work see my nappy hair. When I got home from the wig shop and tried it on, I began to sob. I looked ridiculous. I was a joke!
I plead insanity for the actions I took thereafter. I grabbed a pair of scissors and started chopping my relaxed hair off. Before doing so, I called a girlfriend who had gone through the Big Chop weeks ago: "I’m doing it! I cannot take it anymore!"
She responded with hesitation: "Girl, are you sure? Are you sure that you’re ready?"
"Yes, I am!" I felt free with every cut.
-Diva Martine
