African hair braiding in savannah georgia

Around eight-fifteen, in the middle of prom, Dennis and his three friends sat at the corners of the gymnasium stalking among the rest that danced. Lia’s boyfriend had just left with other boys to a diner, Jordan remained silent and paid attention to her friend, Alice, across the gymnasium, and Dennis remained calm as the rest spoke among each other; mostly about work, or their upcoming school projects.
As Dennis, being 16 years old, wiped his hair for the last time for effect, he got an odd thought and said loudly, hoping everyone at the table heard, “Someone has been saying I slept with Mr. Kane, our math teacher”. Two of his friends, Robert and Lia, glanced at him, now focusing the conversation on him holding their phones in hand, and asked excitedly, “Who?”.
Dennis, feeling pride in himself suddenly reached for his phone, to check the time. “I don’t know who? I'm thinking of that girl, Savannah”, Dennis said lazily, as if he just thought of the name just now.
All who sat at the table, at their prom night, especially Lia, glanced at Jordan, who from holding her wallet with strong stability, said harshly, “You don’t know how it got out? Does Mr. Kane knows?”. Dennis glanced across the dance floor, thinking how foolish everyone looked, especially popular couples and their fancy suits, and looked back at Jordan and said, “He was giving me weird looks last week. He probably thinks I'm the one making it up”. Dennis then giggles lightly to himself.
Jordan then sees her friend, Alice, come up near their table wearing a nice red sparkle dress, along with her boyfriend across the gymnasium talking among his group of boys. She strolled near Lia first, saying hello, then over to Jordan ignoring the rest at the table. “Hello Jordan, you fixed yourself well”, Alice said.
Jordan, without looking at her, says, “Thank you so much”, and raises a smile.
Dennis, hearing them continue to talk, and having no more talk about him, said loudly again, “Someone around here has been spreading rumors that I slept with Mr. Kane, our math teacher”.
Alice then looks at Dennis quickly. “Really? Who?”, Alice says as neatly as she can. Hoping her reaction looked well for effect.
Before Dennis can answer, Lia instead says, “We don’t know who?”, then adds quickly, “We think it's that Savannah girl”.
“That girl is always getting into trouble”, Alice says proudly. Dennis looked at all of them, and felt a need to giggle, but instead remained silent with himself.
By then, Jordan then asks strictly, “Is anybody up for food?”. Thus, when they all agreed, a few wishing they didn’t, all stood up and ditched their prom and started heading down the street where a nice diner stood neatly near a gas station.
When they arrived at the diner, a few boys from prom were there as well and said hello to them as they picked their seats. One of them, Lia's boyfriend, came and said hello.
"Do I wear too much makeup?", Lia asked cautiously.
Her boyfriend became stubborn when he responded quickly, "whatever you think".
Lia, disappointed she didn't get an offensive answer, agreed and made sure to smile instead.
But before Lia and her boyfriend can continue their conversation, Dennis says lightly, “Guess what?”.
Her boyfriend, still feeling nervous about his answer, looked up at Dennis.
“What?”, Lia's boyfriend says nicely.
“Someone last week has been spreading rumors I slept with Mr. Kane”, Dennis said strictly.
“Really who?”, then adds, “Is it true?”.
Dennis was not surprised by the quick need for answers and felt lonely when he realized he was mostly tired, and irritable, to go back home later, in a small apartment: then go on his phone, check some blogs, and slowly drift off to sleep. Hearing nothing but the loud stomps and tension between his dog, his parents, and the often harsh ventilation that blew sourly through his room.
Dennis looks at his reflection on his phone for what he thought was to check the time, sees how small and unattractive he thinks he is, and giggles sourly, before saying again without looking at Lia's boyfriend, who was tall, white, and handsome, “I don’t know who. But we think it's that girl Savannah. She is always getting into trouble”. By then, all who were at the table agreed.

I’ve been with the same man for about five years now, it’s been on and off very toxic if I should say the least. I recently lost our first baby, well my first baby by him. he already has two kids it was a shock to both of us things got way too complicated he’s cheated on me before, he’s always cheated on me actually. He would always blame it on me being a stripper but even when I stopped dancing for an entire year like he asked me to, the cheating never stopped. He will be loyal to me for a few months then it’s back to the same thing. I feel like the only reason that I’m with him is because I don’t have any money, I don’t have any family, being with him I’ve developed low self esteem and major insecurities, he’s the only man I’ve basically known and been with my entire adult life so I’m very comfortable and attached to him I may also have Stockholm syndrome. He’s very emotionally and physically abusive. He’s put me in the hospital once and injured me many other times. Just recently he slapped me, about a week ago. I met him when I was 18 I’m now 23. All the girls I catch him cheating with are white Spanish girls with long dark hair and nice bodies mostly from surgery with tattoos vs me I’m African American course hair dark eyes brown skin i don’t have any surgery I have nice boobs but I’ve always struggled with my stomach/ back fat and I don’t have the biggest butt like he’s used to. (He’s from Miami he’s only ever dated plastic women) He recently made fun of me last night because he says I have a dark asz crack and I need to “bleach” it I always feel very insecure with him and it just makes me wonder if he can cheat and have all these thirsty Spanish girls all over him why does he continue to stay with me. He always tell me he doesn’t care about them but I find it hard to believe. If he doesn’t care why is he still in contact with them? I really don’t believe I’m his type at all. I found pictures in his phone of his ex wearing lingerie and heels just to sit around the house while we were broken up while I wear big t shirts and shorts to go to sleep and during sex. He’s told all of these girls about me and they don’t care. Just recently one of his exes told me she was pregnant by him before after I revealed my pregnancy to her and advised her to stop messaging him and his other ex is currently pregnant and I’m scrambling my mind wondering if it’s his baby because he cheated on my during my pregnancy now I wouldn’t put it past him. I’ve tried reaching out to this girl before she never responds she just keeps making sexual advances towards him and it really stresses me out. It’s hard for me not to feel a strong hate for her. What makes it worst is that his mom is friends with both of them. I decided not to keep the baby for this reason. We live together now but I wish I could emotionally detach from him so I can make clearer decisions and not be phased by him. It’s so hard to look at him without thinking about all the bad. I really wish I only saw him as a friend but the love I have for him won’t fade. It’s hard I always feel embarrassed around him like I can’t speak up for myself. Can someone please give me advice on how to loose feelings for someone while in a relationship.
Also I forgot to mention these girls are in their 30’s my bf is 40.

Hello all! First I would just like to say that I support Bubbline as a ship. I think PB and Marcy are a great pair! This is only what I've observed as I've been rewatching episodes of Adventure Time and noticed some scenes that I think indicate that Finn x PB was the planned endgame ship up until a certain point.
A few come to mind right off the bat.
First were the scenes in "The Pajama War." Finn and PB sneaking away from the party to hang out alone with the two sharing laughs and confiding in one another. The end of that episode is what really sticks out to me. When Finn and PB are sitting on the VR Treadmill thing and Finn says "Thanks for showing me around PB, I've enjoyed just hanging out," to which PB responds with "Me too!" And their eyes get all big and "starry" when they look into each other's eyes.
The second that comes to mind is when Finn his building his tower of revenge to steal his dad's arm. PB is so concerned with Finn's well being, going as far as yelling at Jake about its not healthy to be looking for revenge and he could hurt. On top of that, she constructs this elaborate trick to get Finn to see that what he really needed was to see that he didn't need revenge to be ok.
The third that comes to mind is before Finn, Jake, Susan, and BMO depart in the Islands Miniseries. PB gives Finn this monologue about how he cares about the trip more than he's letting on and that he could find out some heavy stuff about the humans and where he came from. She makes him promise her, really promise her, that he would come home safe. "Finn, I get the sense that this trip is more important to you than you’re letting on. I mean, if you make it to that island, you might find out some pretty heavy stuff…about the humans and where you came from…about yourself... All I’m saying is: you have to promise me–promise me–that you’ll come home safe… ” Unfortunately Finn doesn't get to answer because they're interrupted by Fern, but before Finn leaves, he and PB share a hug. While they begin to sail away, PB stands on the shore and holds the end of her braid saying "He'll be alright," almost as if she's trying to reassure herself.
The final thing that comes to mind right now is in the Elements miniseries. When Finn turns into a fire person and is threatening a war against the candy people, nothing can really stop him from trying to stab PB in his battle-crazed, fire person mind. The only thing that works is LSP sending Finn to his "happy place" by putting some of PB's gum on him. All of the memories he sees are moments that are romantic between the two: Finn getting a lock of PB's hair, PB saying "I wish I could stay like this with you" when she turned 13 again, and the aforementioned "I've enjoyed just hanging out" scene. The memories are all of PB, no one else. Not even Jake or any of his other friends. This cures Finn and he says "I'm gonna bring you back, Bonnie." He makes this vow with Marceline hovering right next to him. He could have said he was going to bring everyone back, but he singles out PB.
I'm sure there are other moments too, but recently I've been hopping around watching random episodes (and the Islands and Elementals miniseries) and these are the ones I've picked up on so far (the major ones anyway).
Feel free to discuss what you think about this in the comments, but please keep it respectful! I know there can be some hostility between the Bubbline and Fubblegum(?) shippers. Anyone can like any ship they want (as long as it's not for hateful reasons!)
Edit: I'm also only using scenes from later in the show in this (post Finn and Flame Princess breakup and pre-season 10). This is because the show had a much more linear story rather than a bunch of random adventures as there had been in the earlier seasons. Additionally, the earlier seasons were more one-sided in terms of Finn x PB because some of the episodes were literally just about Finn saving the Princess.

I was beginning to think I’ve had wavy hair my entire life and never knew, but I was looking at old pictures of myself (I have an issue with remembering how I look) and realized my hair is pretty straight and has probably just adjusted to the the braids that I put them in. I usually put my hair in two braids after I wash it because I’m too lazy to do anything else and sleep in it. Now I’m finding out that’s really damaging and has also caused me to believe I have wavy hair when I actually don’t 😭. This should’ve been common sense for me, I feel really dumb. Thanks to this subreddit though I’ve learned a lot about wavy/curly hair haha! Now time to figure out how to fix my damaged hair.

What should I put in my 5 month old sons hair?(we’re African American/black). The doctor said coconut oil but I’ve been doing that everyday and his hair is starting to thin any suggestions?

I have a 2 year old (M, neutered), 12 pound, long-haired tuxedo cat who only in the last few weeks is rapidly losing hair on his right ear. He’s an indoor cat and we live in Georgia. He was sick for a while with an upper respiratory infection and had to go through steroids and antibiotics. He’s been on the other side of that for maybe three weeks now, and I’ve noticed him losing the hair. Where the ear is showing through, it is crusty, red, and seems to be turning darker. It looks irritated, but he doesn’t respond harshly when I touch it. We just recently got a new kitten a few months ago and they play quite rough, but I’ve never noticed him going after that specific ear. He is still enjoying playing, food, water, etc. I’m just worried if this is ongoing somehow from his last sick spell. He doesn’t have a history of being sick, has all of his shots, and is on a general monthly prevention medicine for fleas, mites, etc…so is the new kitten, who is also neutered.
Does anyone have any clue what this could be? Thanks so much.

I'm not super knowledgeable about dance tbh, I just enjoy watching it — please forgive mistakes about technical terms. Also I know "satisfying timing" isn't a technical term, but it's the thing I enjoy most about Ireh's dance style and I'm not sure how else to put it. She always hits the beat in such a sharp way, while having a really relaxed flow. So, that. Whatever you want to call that.
Examples of Ireh dancing:
- Taemin's Idea (black tank, bangs)- Break Up With Your Girlfriend (white shirt, bangs)- Stray Kids Maniac/Maniac, Guerrilla, Back Door, Case 143, Inception (blonde braids)- Zico New Thing- Ateez Deja Vu- Exo Overdose (long blonde hair w/ bangs, white shirt w/ black jacket and pants)- Kai Mmmh/Mmmh (red hair, flared pants)- The Boyz The Stealer (blonde hair)- misc vlive random dances (green sweats, bangs)- misc vlive random dances (long hair, green shirt / long orange hair, solid black clothes)
Any recommendations for female idols with similar dance styles? Links to specific video recommendations are appreciated. (Doesn't have to be bg covers btw, Ireh's just really good at them and so here we are.)
Edit: if I'm getting downvoted for asking this incorrectly, then please tell me why so I can fix it?

I have a college professor in a small class who has an enormous ego and, in my opinion, is on a power trip every class. He is very strict and rambles non-stop about his personal life etc. He's already done a couple of things that have really pissed me off. For example, one day in class he asked me to read from a book. I told him I didn't have my book. To be fair, I have not brought a book to class since freshman year(I am a senior) because we always just go over a PowerPoint or the lecture from our professor. Anyway, he responds after taking a deep breath, "you brought your coffee. You brought your laptop. Next time you're gonna bring what?" Goading me into saying "my book." I'm 22 years old and he treated me like a child.
Now here comes the part that has really been bothering me.
For context, I am African American with a lot of curly "nappy" hair, for lack of a better word. I was wearing a hat in class. Granted, we had a speaker that morning. Before the speaker comes, he tells me "take off your hat." Which I do. He then looks at my hair and says, "nevermind you can put it back on." I was stunned. The only thing I can think of is the fact that he took a look at my hair type (African curly hair) and decided to make that comment at my expense. To make matters even worse, the following week, we also had a speaker, and another student was wearing a hat. He did not say a single word to him (and he was wearing a beanie, like you would wear to rob a bank, while mine was just a baseball hat).
I'm usually not the first person to bring race into a situation, but I can't help but think that may have something to do with this situation. This was two weeks ago, and before every class of his, I boil with rage. I am thinking about reporting him to the school, but I wanted to get alternative opinions in case I am overreacting.
​
Thougts?

judging from an earlier post, it looks like a lot of folks on here have changed their hair routines to wash weekly and exclude butters/oils. so I’m wondering: what made you stop using oils and butters? were you easily convinced or did it take a lot of pressure? what was your haircare routine before? did you think it was working? or did you try something new because you didn’t like how your hair looked before? and what’s the best part of your new haircare routine?
for me, i stopped using oils and butters because the stylist that I wanted to book with wouldn’t take me as a client until I did a month long no oils no butters detox. i was NOT easily convinced 😭 i thought all the no oils/no butters girlies were fools and i ignored their advice for a year before I ever tried it.
before I started washing weekly and cutting out oils/butter, i shampooed and conditioned every 2 weeks, and i deep conditioned + detangled every week. I spritzed my hair with water and reapplied oil to my scalp and my ends 2-3 times a week. i also did the banding method on my hair every night before bed to stretch my WNGs or my afro. i got braids/twists/locs often because i thought they were protective styles. i learned this all from YouTube and at the time, it 100% made sense to me.
i also had an ridiculous number of hair care products. i basically had a mini beauty supply store in my room. and i’m so mad because i wish I could get that money back.
i also put a lot of food in my hair. i mainly used store bought deep conditioners because I am lazy, but i did love making mayonnaise hair masks and spritzing my hair with aloe vera juice. i also tried eggs, onion juice, black tea, bananas, and avocados as natural deep conditioners. this is insane to me now (do not put onion juice in your hair!!!!!).
idk about you guys, but i genuinely thought my haircare routine was working. I didn’t know that my hair was chronically dehydrated or that it was not behaving like healthy hair should because it looked the way I wanted it to look, it felt soft and plush to the touch, and it was growing. a lot
i love that washing, conditioning, styling, and drying my hair only takes 2 hours a week. this is very convenient of course, but the very best part of my hair routine is how how light my hair is now. i never realized how heavy my hair was because I didn’t know that the oils and butters were weighing it down. it didn’t feel heavy before, but now, my hair is so LIGHT. i can’t even describe it. it’s just fluffy and light and it moves so easily. I’m amazed every time.

Hey everyone, I just want to apologize for the long post ahead of time. I posted this same thing in the AncestryDNA reddit and got one reply from a really kind gentleman, but I guess I just really need some more advice from other genealogists on how they would go about something quite like this, as the AncestryDNA subreddit seems to be geared more towards ethnicity results than it is DNA matching and family history.
I have recently came across a discovery in my family tree that has left me shocked, confused, and just at an utter loss for words. To give you some background, I have been researching my family tree since around 2017 and have DNA tested with Ancestry DNA, 23andMe, and uploaded my DNA to MyHeritage and Family Tree DNA. I am African American and know little about my family, especially my maternal grandfather.
This centers around my great-great grandfather, I’ll call him “Joe”. Joe was born in 1892 in Bedford County, VA. Both of his parents died when he was young, so we knew little about his family history. I then used records and DNA in an effort to find DNA matches who descend from relatives of Joe Sr and Mary. In addition to my DNA matches, my mother, and two cousins of mine who are both the grandchildren of Joe (1892) have taken the test have granted me access to their DNA matches. That’s when I started to notice something, several matches that shared the same two ancestors, but these ancestors did not line up with what I found on the marriage record. The closer the relative was to Joe genetically, the closer the matches were. These matches were Caucasian and some where at a 2nd and 3rd cousin range to my older generation cousins. These matches seemed to be from Joe’s father, Joe Sr’s side, as I was able to filter the ones that belonged to Mary. This was odd since I didn’t know of any non-African heritage possessed by Joe Sr that was close enough to register people who were 100% European this closely.
I went through some of these matches and discovered that they all trace back to the same couple, I’ll call them “William” and “Eliza”. William and Eliza were born in 1833 and 1839 respectively. They had several children, and had also lived in the same town in Bedford County that Joe (1892) was born in. As I mentioned earlier, I have also tested with 23andMe. On 23andMe, I have cousin on my mother’s side that possesses Joe’s direct paternal line. His haplogroup is R-1006.1, a European haplogroup. In my match list are several descendants of William and Eliza as well. I found a shared match between my cousin and I, and a male who has the same surname as “William”. His haplogroup was R-1006.1, just like Joe’s. This likely means that Joe’s paternal grandfather was likely William given the 59 year gap between them and the shared paternal haplogroup. I first believed that William was the father of Joe Sr, as Joe Sr’s mother had several children out of wedlock at one point, but DNA matching pointed towards something else. In addition to matches I had through William and his brothers and uncles, my mother, and my two cousins had matches through his wife, Eliza’s brother and also through one of her uncles. This should only be possible if William and Eliza are related somehow or if Joe (1892) descends from both William and Eliza. After tracing their trees, I discovered that William and Eliza don’t appear to be related. This is when I started to consider the latter possibility. I discovered that living one page away from Joe on the 1900 census is William and Eliza with their youngest children. One page in the other direction lived their oldest son (“James”) with his wife and children. Joe’s grandmother (“Nancy”) worked as a cook for the family of the James’s wife's family. This l probably means that Mary, Joe’s mother, also worked in their house before her death. This is when I began to put the pieces together. My great-great grandfather Joe (1892) likely was not the biological son of Joe Sr, but rather his birth was an NPE and he was likely fathered by James either when Mary was working in his in-laws’ house or he saw her on other terms because he would have been her neighbor when she was alive. I don’t think the encounter was consensual, as I am aware that many enslavers and employers took advantage of the black women who worked for them. All of William and Eliza’s children had brown hair, a trait that my great-great grandfather Joe shared when he was younger. Joe even looks like one of James’ brothers. Because of Joe’s light skin, I knew that he would have European ancestry, but I don’t know that his father would be considering his parents’ marriage.
When I put the pieces together, I honestly didn't know what to do. I was horrified that Joe was a product of a horrendous crime against someone’s wife and how it impacted that family if they knew. Mary had other children after Joe, both of whom died as babies. There is no way to tell who their biological father was. I put the pieces together last year and kept this to myself. While researching a different branch of my family in Bedford County, I came across a fellow researcher who was also researching this branch. I allowed her access to my DNA matches. She noticed the William and Eliza matches and came to the same conclusion that one of their sons was the biological father of Joe (1892). She even suggested that I replace the father of Joe (1892) from Joe Sr to James since I now know that Joe Sr is not genetically related. I didn’t do this because again, Mary was married, meaning the chances of her encounter with her neighboemployer being consensual are quite low. I am aware that Joe (1892) was likely conceived through "paramour's rights" and I imagine the situation was similar to that of Ruby McCollum in the 1950s. If it bothers me this much, I can only imagine what it was like for her having gone through that. I am very aware that both during and after slavery, women were assaulted by those who enslaved or employed them, and children resulted from this. I am horrified because the assault still has living grandchildren as a result.
The only other person who knows this is one of my cousins (Joe’s grandson) who also did DNA and explores the genealogy with me. I finally told him recently. He was shocked just like me, and agreed that members of James’ family resembled Joe. He said he was not surprised as he knew this type of thing happened. He said that nothing could be done about it, and acknowledging it will make us stronger. I refrained from putting it on the tree because it’s a secret that might not sit right with some of my family members and I just wanted to let it die for the sake of the rest of Joe’s descendants. I don’t want to inflict what I feel on any of them.
I honestly just need advice on how to move forward with this. I have been doing my family research for five years and this is the first time I really had to step back because of something I found that shocked and disturbed me to this degree. Joe’s birth was an NPE, meaning biologically, he and I are apart of William and Eliza’s bloodline. The tree would be most accurate as James as his father, but I'm really hesitant to put that on there because of what this likely meant for Mary given her marriage. I also fear it will be controversial to those living today that are a part of James' family. Even though only three people today know about what happened right now, I fear future family researchers in our family will also put the pieces together. What should I do? Should I implement what the DNA says on my tree or keep my tree the way it is? Has anyone else found that an ancestor of theirs was conceived this way on a married woman? If you did, how did you deal with it and what did you do to your tree? I thank you if you have gotten this far, and any advice anyone could offer would be a big help in navigating this. God Bless.

^{Characters: Lucas, Amicia
Tags: post-canon, aged-up characters, spoilers, angst, songfic, grief/mourning, hurt/comfort, canonical character's death, unrequited feelings.
The song: Gutter King - Feather (Youtube link})
^{Originally posted on AO3. I'm not a native speaker, my apologies for any possible inaccuracies!}
***

Love what if I told you I've been sinking in my sleep?
Still lost in that moment
Just a fading memory

Lucas opened his eyes in a thick twilight, broken only by a dim lamp swaying under the ceiling of the cabin. He had long been accustomed to falling asleep to the sound of a ship running over the waves, and the noise, breaking the even melody of creaking sides and fluttering sails, instantly woke him up.
“Amicia?”
In the faint warm light he could recognize her back and long, crumbling braid lingering to it. She sat in bed, curled up and buried her face in her knees, and in a moment Lucas heard a long, stifled moan, turning into inconsolable sobs. Amicia's shoulders heaved as if in a spasm; shoulder blades stuck out sharply under the white fabric of the shirt.
Entangled in the blanket and almost falling to the swinging floor, Lucas rushed to her.
“Amicia, I’m begging you…”
He grabbed her shoulders, feeling painfully how much they were trembling. Amicia didn't react to the touch, just shrunk even more, as if she was in unbearable pain.
“Look at me, please!” he screamed desperately and shook her, forcing Amicia to straighten up.
Amicia's face was wet and hot, tears were streaming down her cheeks uncontrollably. She wept, apparently seeing nothing and hardly realizing where she was; Lucas assumed that was a nightmare that’d woke her up, but now he was almost sure that it could be something else, something worse. Bad dreams had bothered her before, but never have Lucas seen her this broken.
“Hugo... Hugo…” he distinguished among the sobs and groans. His heart sank down and didn't break only because this abyss had no bottom.
That’s bad. So, so bad.
Almost ten years have passed since the worst day of their lives. Lucas and Amicia spent seven of them on a road that had no end in sight, looking for other Carriers, or at least traces of them, but all was in vain. The Order kept its secrets too carefully; or maybe there were no more secrets left, just as there were none of those who could protect them from alien eyes. The clues led them on a false trail, the questions were not answered, and the coincidences turned out to be just coincidences. Now they sailed across the sea, to the land of sand and yellow stone, looking for an ancient knowledge, but their hope was weak to the point of dying.

And I would do anything just to feel close to you
And I would give everything just to rewrite the truth

Lucas saw how tired Amicia was. In past few weeks she had almost stopped sleeping, barely ate and rarely spoke, for the hundredth time studying her journals, which she’d never let go with even for a second. She was haggard, her eyes, always so bright and passionate, dimmed, purple shadows lay under them. Lucas would be happy to do something for her to help her sleep; but they were on the ship, he was out of herbs for months already, and a month of their journey ahead seemed endless.
He hoped it would pass. Almost forced himself to believe it every time Amicia startled at any loud sound or recoiled at any touch of his. She just needs a little time, he was saying to himself when he noticed Amicia in a frightening stillness with her eyes drew to the void. What did she see in those moments? What dark waters of her own memory did she explore? He didn’t know. He didn’t want to know, and hated himself for it.

I've been silently trying to hold on to fractions of images
And light as a feather
The sound of your breathing clouds my mind

An unbearably long minute passed before something sensible flashed in Amicia's cloudy eyes; something like recognition. She clutched at Lucas, her fingers tightening around the shirt at his chest; he felt his collar pulled down, cutting into his neck.
“Amicia, it's me, I'm here,” Lucas whispered, stroking her face, hair, shoulders with quick, smooth movements, distracting, returning to reality. “Talk to me, sweetheart. Don't keep it inside, don't do that to yourself, please.”

Is this a dream?

Her eyebrows twitched, her face contorted; she took another deep, convulsive breath before exhaling — and her breath tangled with words that kicked the ground from under his feet.
“I can't remember his face anymore.”
Not a cry — a bitter, heart-rending wail tore from her chest.
It was a scream of a dying deer with a crossbow bolt sticking out its neck; it was a weeping of a mother who has lost her child in the rubble of a ruined house; it was a sound of grief a mortal man can escape only in another world. Lucas held Amicia tightly to him, and let his own tears flow, unwitnessed.
He couldn't remember either.

Take it away
My sight or your face
I can't help but feel that I locked you away

Lucas knew it for months already. A realization, oddly mundane, came upon him as a small bronze fibula brooch caught his eye. He saw it, looking for something across Amicia's belongings, and the question flashed in his confused mind: whose is this?
It took him a few moments to remember where he'd seen this thing before. And this short, almost insignificant pause determined everything.
He couldn't remember what Hugo looked like.
Of course, Lucas remembered the feeling of a small hand in his own. Silky hair of a child, so soft under his palm. A small yellow hood, pinned up with this simple fibula. He even remembered a handful of assorted feathers, laid out in a funny order only Hugo could understand. But the face was gone.
He was looking at Amicia over and over again in an attempt to regain lost tender features. But she had already changed so much in recent years that nothing was left of her long-gone childhood. Amicia now looked so much as her mother, with her stern, stone-carved face. She was as beautiful as ever, and Lucas loved her more and more every day, even when it seemed that his heart couldn't take more of it. And yet time was as merciless to her as it was to his memory.
The path that Lucas and Amicia chose for themselves began with Hugo, every step they took was for him. But the image of Hugo eluded them, forever buried among the snow-capped peaks, inaccessible even to the sharp eye of mountain eagles. The memory of the last minutes of the cursed little boy dying of pain burned Lucas’ heart, filled it with inescapable grief, rage and purpose.

Days turn to weeks and I said that I'd try
But you've burned your way to the back of my mind

But the heart, so stupid and stubborn, still sought to be healed, even at the cost of the most precious memories.
Perhaps it was inevitable, Lucas thought once. Plague left no so long ago, and the world began to bloom again. On their mournful path, the laughter and singing of birds began to sound, sunsets and sunrises painted it, wild grasses and sea breezes filled it with freshness. They enjoyed the road, but the main joy was the connection between them, which strengthened slowly, but surely, and filled their souls with peace.
Confidently stepping into the future, they moved further and further away from the past. Hugo's grave was left so far behind that they might never return to it again. And this thought, terrible in fact, no longer frightened Lucas for some reason. He still could feel the pain, but it easily dissipated as soon as he made himself busy.

Worlds away
And slowly you fade, slowly you fade

Lucas never expected Amicia to let go of her brother's memory. But now it seemed like the time took its toll.
"I don't... Don't remember…" Amicia sobbed, panting, and Lucas felt her head pounding against his chest. Bone hit the bone, as if he was holding a skeleton in his hands, not a living person; an empty, scorched shell. “How could I?...”
“Hush, hush,” Lucas said, stroking her tangled, sweat-drenched hair.
Amicia experienced the loss of Hugo for the second time, he realized. Ten years ago, she did what she had to, with her own hand, ending the torment of the dearest person in the world. It was her most terrible deed, it shattered her soul forever; but it was still her own decision — to fulfill the last will of her younger brother. The greatest act of love; selflessness beyond reason.
But memories of Hugo left Amicia against her will. Now she was standing on the shore, watching the ship leaving the harbor right in front of her; the ship she knew would never return.

Last words don't last, and my hands are bare

Amicia's sobs gradually subsided under Lucas's touch, and finally she froze in his arms and went limp, taking deep, shaky breaths occasionally.
“How could I?” Amicia whispered, blowing her hot breath over his collarbones. “How could I?”
Her voice was muffled, empty, too calm for a person who was choking on tears only a moment ago.
Sudden weariness hit Lucas, like a huge stone lowered on his shoulders. He himself slept too little, worrying about Amicia's health; he constantly reread the notes, knowing that he wouldn't find anything new there, but still looking for at least something encouraging. He caught a cold because of the insidious surge of the night wave, and for more than a week he struggled, refusing to show his illness. Lucas felt sorry for himself, he was sick and lonely; Amicia had drifted away from him, and he missed her like crazy. But he knew himself enough to understand that there was the only way left for him to heal. To be useful to Amicia, to put his own living heart, that had not yet lost its naive warmth, into her dead chest; that was his path he was choosing every time he opened his eyes in the beginning of a new day. Looking into the past, the one that hasn’t left him yet, Lucas realized that he still had the strength to do that again.
"Hey," Lucas began softly, slowly stroking Amicia's thin back. “Do you remember how we played hide and seek in the ruins of that fortress? I was the evil sorcerer, and you and Hugo tried to conquer me.”
Amicia didn't answer, and Lucas, taking the silence as permission, continued.
“I still remember his laugh. He always laughed so loudly, you know, from the bottom of his heart, it made my ears pawned sometimes. It even annoyed me a little, until I realized that it was because I too rarely hear his laugh. I just didn’t have enough time to get used to it.”

But despite my hell
I still feel you there

Lucas went on and on, telling Amicia the smallest details about Hugo that he could get out of his mind. He reminded her of the yellow hood and the bronze fibula and the handful of feathers; about how Hugo slowly learned to read from his mother's books; how deftly he climbed trees, and then was too scared to get down on his own. How small hands skillfully plucked herbs, with a gentle but confident movement. About the flowers that he loved so much, and the frogs that he raved about, barely seeing the reflection of the water in the bushes.
Lucas did not have a single memory that was not overshadowed by the bitterness of loss. But still, these were bright memories of the childhood that they managed to give Hugo, the moments when he was happy, forgetting about the curse in his blood. It wasn't Hugo himself, but their love for Hugo, forever sealed in their hearts in the moment his own little heart stopped beating.
"I don't remember his face either," Lucas admitted quietly. “But I remember his smile. It's strange, but I still can see it. Can you?”
Amicia, who hadn’t uttered a sound all this time, freed herself from his embrace and looked at him. For a moment, Lucas thought the fire had been rekindled in her eyes, but perhaps he just wanted too much to believe it. She spoke softly, her voice hoarse.
“I can. I remember his smile too.”
And tears broke down again. Amicia's face was sad, but the grimace of deadly despair wasn't there anymore. She mourned her brother with sorrow and love, which did not leave her from the very day when she had to say goodbye to him forever. The pain returned, it always does, but now Amicia wasn’t its hostage.
“I wish I could hug him,” she murmured through her tears. “I want to see him one last time... Only once. But that will never happen again, right?”
She looked at Lucas as if she expected him to refute her words. But he only shook his head, picking up her tears with his fingers, feeling them roll down his palms and dry on his skin.
“He won’t come back, Amicia.”

I wish you could stay one more night
‘Cause I’m over the edge and I can’t hold this back

Sobbing, she pressed his hand to her cheek, leaning against it. Deep sadness and shy excitement seized Lucas at the sight of this Amicia — vulnerable, looking for support in Lucas, who was so hopelessly in love and forever engaged with her.
“I want it here,” she whispered, pressing her hand to her sunken chest, “to stop hurting so much. But pain is all I have left of him, Lucas. I feel that if I give up this pain, I will completely forget Hugo. What will I live for then? For what?”

Won't you stay one more night?
I still can't believe you're a memory to me

“For the sake of the world he left us.” Lucas gently took her tiny, thin face in his hands. “Hugo loved it so much, this world, and he sacrificed himself to save it. And you helped him. You have protected what was dear to him.”
Amicia startled suddenly, and now Lucas was sure: her eyes shone again under her brows knitted in confusion. Not expecting such response, Lucas took his hands away from her face, but she suddenly took them in her own — a rare occasion of Amicia being the first to touch him — and squeezed tightly.
“I promised Hugo this a long time ago,” she said in awe. “I promised him to never back down. To remember what he gave... so... so the world he loved would live.”
The ghost of a smile that hadn't been seen on her face for so long crossed her lips, and Lucas almost cried himself.
He loved Hugo with all his heart; the boy changed his life forever, opened him the facets of his own soul which Lucas never knew existed. But his whole being was now in the hands of Amicia, his broken, beautiful Amicia, who had just told him the most sacred thing that her heart ever kept. Lucas was ready to give her the whole world if it could heal her, but he knew that she never needed that.
“Thank you, Lucas.”
Amicia pressed his hands to her lips, dry and cool, and the simple gesture took his breath away.
"Please don't let me forget," she whispered bitterly. "There are almost no one left in this world who remember that he lived. Please don't let me forget him.”

Just a memory to me

“I promise.”

This is my first post here, so let me know how I did and what I could do better in the future.
I watched the ship take off and disappear into the starry sky and sighed as I knew it’d be another six months before it came back. I turned and began making my way back to the tree. I strode across vast fields the size of hab blocks, waded through a marsh the size of a city, and across a mountain range that reached so high it scraped the edge of the void.
I scarcely noticed as I was lost in thought at the monumental task of running the Garden, my mind linked with the massive atmospheric generators, continent-ringing terraforming engines, and the clouds and rivers of nanites that drifted across the land. With these technologies at my beck and call, I ensured the Garden flourished and was a venerable paradise.
It took me twenty-eight days of ceaseless travel to reach the tree. I unlinked and returned to my body, taking it the beautiful sight that brought tears to every visitor I had brought here.
A massive meadow with golden grass, and in the center rose a low hill that was crested with an enormous tree with leaves of gold that was always laden with silver apples. I made my way to the tree and found my seat, a large dark river stone I had cut and polished til it shone like a mirror. I had nestled it amongst the tree's roots and used it as a seat to rest, from which I taught my yearly visitors everything they needed to know.
I leaned my crook against the tree and rested my bulk on the stone, now long worn smooth by the passage of millennia. I rested my arms on my knees, cast my mind through the link, and ran primary through tertiary diagnostics on every system and function in the garden.
When the diagnostics were done, the grass had wrapped around my feet and grown up my legs to just shy of my knees, and a thick coating of pollen and dust had settled onto my body. I looked down at my dirty robes and skin and decided I needed a bath. I grabbed my crook and headed south.
I passed through jungles and shrublands til I came out onto a savannah that stretched far beyond what even my prodigious sight could see. I made my way toward its heart, and after another thirteen days of travel, I came to a lake so large it could technically be classified as an inland ocean.
I stropped from my robes and began to scrub them in the water until they shimmered white again. Then I took handfuls of the fine sand of the shore and scrubbed every inch of myself til my silver skin was spotless, then I kneeled and washed my golden hair, and when I was fairly sure I was clean as I could get, I dressed and made my way back across the savannah.
After two days of walking, I heard a sound that made me smile, the trumpeting of elephants. I picked up the pace and climbed a boulder ahead of me, and there I saw a herd of them lumbering across the savannah.
There were probably around eighty of them in the herd. I smiled and cracked the butt of my crook against the boulder, and a low note rolled out over the savannah. When it reached the herd, they halted, and I saw the matriarch turn towards me and let loose a trumpet and begin to thunder towards me with the rest of the herd hot on her heels.
I laughed as they reached me, and soon I was swamped by dozens of trunks running through my hair and tugging on my robes I smiled as I patted their heads and scratched ears as I walked through the herd. I stopped at the matriarch and used a nail on my left hand to scratch a mark on her tusk, similar to the dozens of others running up her tusks. I scratched her ears and smiled as I walked off.
It took another ten days until I reached the edge and stood in the wall's shadow. I linked with the wall and could sense the intricate machinery in the three kilometer thick wall at work. I adjusted the wind patterns in the vicinity and ended up dialing the rain back by seven percent.
After that, I traveled back to the tree, but instead of running diagnostics, I accessed the archives and began constructing a new lesson plan. I decided that since it had been over five hundred years since the last time, I would cover the origins of the Garden and how I came to care for it.
Project Garden was created as a last-ditch effort to preserve humanity's history. With the civil war raging and weapons of mass destruction being used as freely as soldiers' lives were spent, a group of scientists began a number of tremendous undertakings.
Project Elysium would create a series of extra-dimensional archives holding every fact of human knowledge. In the end, thirty-seven such archives were created and placed in a dimension unaccessable but through a single data link. The project was a success, and the knowledge of humanity was forever preserved.
Project Tir Na Nog would give birth to the most sophisticated terraforming technologies ever before seen. The power to crack planets and reshape the land like clay, swarms of nanites that could strip things down on an atomic level and assemble it as something new, engines that could create an atmosphere from the most toxic air and able to rebuild one from nothing,
Project Eden was to gather a single cell from every living thing on the planet, from microorganisms to common lichen. These cells would be stored alongside the archives from Project Elysium, and cloning technologies would allow the plants and animals to be reborn and seeded around the world from those single cells.
Project Valhalla was perhaps the one the second most attention was given. Every form of weapon and defensive technology was pooled together, and new and bizarre ones were conceived in the rush to ensure that Project Garden would be safely defended. The main items to come from the project were void shields of a caliber unseen anywhere else and graviton weapons capable of pulling destroyer-class ships in orbit apart at the seams.
Project Du’at was perhaps the most critical of all the sub-projects in that its task was to create a being who would be capable of using all the projects to their fullest in their areas. The being would be unaging, unlike anything the galaxy had seen before. It would never leave the planet and would be tasked with the construction of a “garden” that it would tend to for all of time. At the last second, it was decided that it would also be a teacher so that, hopefully, the ongoing tragedies would never happen again.
I ended up spending four months building the curriculum for the next batch of visitors. When I had finished, I decided to spend the last two months doing a full walkabout around the Garden.
I traveled to the north and checked on the pack ice and the populations of the various seal species. Next, I dove into the water and spent two weeks swimming with the narwhals, belugas, and grey whales.
When I was sure everything in the cold waters of the north was in order, I headed east and came to a great desert and, for the next three weeks, shifted through the sands, checking on every species that crawled through the sand. I ended up having to exterminate a large part of the rodent population due to a virus and replace it with fresh stock from the gene chamber.
After that, I decided that I’d spend the last week wandering the plains and steppes of the southwest. The great herds of bison, wild mustangs, and elk cut vast swathes across the land, always followed by the packs of wolves that preyed upon them.
I realized the week had already passed by when one night, the security system alerted me that a ship was approaching. Instantaneously dozens of passcodes and security checks flew from the Garden to the ship as I turned my gaze skyward and sought out the approaching vessel.
I quickly found it approaching on the same flight vector it had used for the past six millennia. The words Guardian of Terra on the prow caught the light of the sun, and I lowered the void shields. When everything was cleared, I gave the signal to begin the approach for landing.
Being halfway across the Garden, I would never reach the landing pad in time to meet them, so I quickly linked with the Garden’s subgeo array of locators, and with the use of the Fold Gate Array and single step, I was at the landing pad as the Guardian of Terra was beginning to touch down.
When the bay doors opened, I was greeted by a sight that always warmed my heart, five dozen human children, all between the ages of fourteen and fifteen. They were ushered outside by the crew, and the captain, like always, was leading them to take what was probably their first step on a planet.
I stepped forward with a smile, and the captain gave me a small bow. He stepped aside and, with a flourish of his arm, made a grand gesture of showing me the children.
“These lads and lasses are from the Stella Nomade fleet. As the captain of the Guardian of Terra, I hereby hand them over to your care for the next six months. They have all sworn by their names and their fleet to be true and honest in their ways while in the Garden. Do you, the Caretaker accept them and swear to teach them their history and open their eyes to the past so that it may guide them to a better future?”
I looked over the children and saw a mixture of skin tones and styles of clothes show, casing that they were from all walks of life on the fleet. I smiled and gave them a low bow.
“I, the Caretaker, accept them and swear to teach them all I half to offer so that the mistakes of the past may never be repeated. They will come to no harm in my care and will have full access to the Garden. They shall be respected and be treated fair so long as they return it in kind.”
I held up my crook and, with a wide sweep, made the nanites clouds above us generate light like it was noon, and as I turned back to them, I could see every child's face was filled with awe.
“I welcome every one of you and hope that in the coming days, we all can become fast friends. Welcome to the Garden of Terra.”

Institutional racism, also known as systemic racism, is defined as policies and practices that exist throughout a whole society or organization, and that result in and support a continued unfair advantage to some people and unfair or harmful treatment of others based on race.
Due to the Air Force's own Black/African American Employment Strategy Team (BEST);
" The review confirmed that racial disparity exists for Black/African American airmen and space professionals in the areas of military discipline and career developmental opportunities. Specifically, varying degrees of disparity were identified in apprehensions, criminal investigations, military justice, administrative separations, placement into occupational career fields, certain promotion rates, officer and civilian professional military educational development and some leadership opportunities. "
-- defense.gov
Other studies also found that those that had shaving waivers were more likely to be passed up for promotions and received more paperwork, further inhibiting a member career. 64% of members that have a shaving waiver in the USAF/USSF are African American.
Disallowing beards targets African/American and inhibits their promotions and career progression. Simply saying "dont be biased" does nothing to prevent bias. You have to normalize behavior for any bias about it to be addressed. The longer the Air Force disallows beards the longer it knowingly hurts not just African/Americans, but all men that cannot shave due to medical reasons.
Air Force leadership should be ashamed of itself for allowing such problems to continue, and even more so being a huge part of the problem.
​
" This study found that shaving waivers were associated with a significantly longer time to promotion in the USAF and that Black/African-American members were disproportionately affected by this. The results of this study are especially relevant right now as the USAF recently released a report entitled “Independent Racial Disparity Review,”11 where racial bias was found in several areas of the USAF including promotions. However, the report noted that no causation could be ascribed to this disparity without further research. We hope that the findings of this study shed light on this issue by showing that the promotion system is not necessarily inherently racially biased, but instead biased against the presence of facial hair which will likely always affect the promotions of Blacks/African-Americans disproportionately because of the relatively higher need for shaving waivers in this population. In order to refute or substantiate these findings, we argue that wider study of this issue is warranted. If substantiated, then the benefits of the grooming standards, as defined in Air Force Instruction 36-2903, should be re-evaluated in the context of these findings. "
​
Shaving Waivers in the United States Air Force and Their Impact on Promotions of Black/African-American Members Military Medicine Oxford Academic (oup.com)

*** ALL SPOILERS ALLOWED ***
I am reading through the books for the second time and have just started Caliban's War (Yay! I remember this one being amazing)
One of the details that really pops out at me in the books compared to the TV show is the description of Belters. They are much taller than Earthers, and they have larger heads, all from a childhood in a low or null gravity environment.
Leviathan Wakes tells us that Naomi is a head taller than Jim. Ditto for Miller when compared to the righteous Earther. So, while I'm reading, I imagine that difference in height whenever the characters are in the same room.
That obviously is not the case with the TV show. While I understand the showrunners' reasons for not trying to make Belters look like they do in the books, I can't help but wonder if it can be done.
The main reason I would like to see this portrayed onscreen (besides my belief that source material should always be respected) is because of the importance of Belter physique when it comes to the story. You can begin to see the reasons why they are treated so badly by the Inners. It's a modern (200 years from now) version of racism. It helps the audience understand why the Earthers look down upon Belters. It's a fantastic parallel to real life and the racism we see today.
Let me give you a personal example. I grew up in Eastern Europe in a country where you will rarely see people of African descent, especially if you live far from the capital like I did. My family was given an opportunity to move to the US for work in the late 90s. I was just about 7 years old. I had never seen anyone in my life who wasn't of either Slavic, Azerbaijani, Georgian, Uzbek, Kazhazh, etc (I think you get the point) descent. However, when I moved to the US, it wasn't long until I saw black (African descent) people for the first time. What do you imagine went through my mind at first? They were so different in the way they looked when compared to me, my family, and anyone I'd ever known. It shocked me to the point that for the first weeks after becoming an immigrant, I had thoughts and feelings that I think can be classified as racist. I say I "think" because I don't remember feeling any hatred, but rather fear of the unknown and total ignorance of who they are. Despite the lack of hatred, it feels immoral when I remember how I felt. That being said, it didn't take long for those feelings to vanish. How? Well ... I went to school and got a chance to talk and interact with the people I considered so different from me. In no time at all, I got past any and all prejudices as I realized these people are just like me on the inside, meaning there was no logical reason to have any negative feelings. I soon became friends with several black students. Today, my best friend happens to be black. The difference in skin color makes no difference to us. We're good friends and are very comfortable discussing any topics, including race and injustice. Since that experience in childhood, I have had a strong dislike towards racists because it makes no sense to treat people differently based on something they did not choose. But I also understand how it happens to people, and what they need to do to get past it.
That's exactly what we see in The Expanse. Most Earthers had never seen a Belter in person. They had never spoken to one. They had never worked together. Just like the young me in Eastern Europe in the 90s when it came to people of African descent. All they think about is what they see, which is a person who looks completely different. If they could just speak to one another, they would realize they have more in common than they think.
E.g. I wonder if Amos first had any initial negative feelings toward Belters? If so, I'm sure it didn't take long for him to reject those feelings and work together with the new people he met.
We all have our own understanding of what it means to be normal, usually based on what we experienced in childhood. When we see someone who doesn't look like what we're familiar with, we start to make hasty, fearful, and irrational assumptions. Due to our fear of the unknown, we assume that the "different" people don't share our values and morals, meaning they might be a threat. Rubbish.
The differences between Earthers and Belters are so much more prevalent than the differences between races on Earth today. That is why the racism in The Expanse is so realistic and helps to explain why the situation in the Belt is so dire for so many. It's easy for Earthers to see Belters as "not human" and justify their cruelty towards them. Not only is it realistic, but the racism towards Belters is a key part of the story throughout the books.
Now, back to the show. Belters are usually shown to have tatoos, have hair that stands up, and shaved sides of their heads. They also have their own language. That does make the audience see a difference, but it's nowhere near the difference described in the books. In fact, there are many scenes in the show where you cannot tell if someone where someone is from. E.g. Doris, Prax's friend in Season 2, who stayed with the injured botanist after the first battle of Ganymede. I assumed she was a Belter until she said, "I'm going back to Mars. I still have family there." She was also spaced with the rest of the Inners who were onboard the refugee ship. So ... apparently, she's Martian. I had no idea because she doesn't look any different from Prax, who's only Belter characteristic is his hairstyle.
Overall, I feel like the show is missing a key component of the story by not having the Belters share the physique of their book counterparts.
I'm curious to hear from others on whether or not you would try to make Belters realistic on-screen and also how it would be done. CGI? Prosthetics? Any other techniques?
Thank you for reading. I hope this opens up a good discussion. Have a wonderful day!
TLDR - Belter physique is vital because it helps explain why they're so oppressed by Earth. It's the same racism we've always seen. The show lacks this element. Would you change this and how?
Tenye discussion gut, beratnas!

It was time first time getting them ever, my mom insisted though I originally declined
I had not had braids in years and had no idea how long how to estimate where to cut. I did it on impulse too as I've had them awhile.
When I start unbraiding I quickly realized I fd up
My hair had been growing for 3 years and Idk how much new growth and length I just lost .... :( Im literally in shock like cant process this. I know it grows back but 3 years accidentally lost is a lot.
I never once got to see my hair all natural for myself. And I worse feel I'm going to get yelled at or accused of sabotaging myself

Because curly hair is so common on this continent, South Africans seek out a plethora of curly hair products. Moreover,curly hair South Africa is frequently curly hair with little curls and a lot of curls that are difficult to style. As a result, high-quality hair care products are required to preserve their attractive hair in good condition.

Heading to Savannah Georgia at the end of April. Looking for the MUST PLAY course in the area

Soo I’ve had a sew in going 3 months strong and I’m gonna take it out by the end of this month, but I need another protective style and my options are between ( French curl braids) or ( curly hair crochet ) which one do you think will do better after I take this out or which one in general

I grew up African. My mum would always braid my hair in different styles. I liked it although when in childhood I did relax my hair a lot….I went on a journey and now i’m 100% natural with looser 4c textured hair. I did develop a complex and insecurity as I saw the way “good hair” was treated in comparison to mine. Black guys would make comments about how black girls don’t have hair or edges and I would get called “FOB” which means (fresh off the boat) african as insult. I grew up London UK and being African wasn’t cool….Carribean was especially Jamaicans. My braids would get yanked and I would get called “horse hair” One time I went out with my natural hair and all the black girls laughed at me saying “I need to get my hair done” “why would you go out like that” I know if i was a different tone or if my hair was a different texture the responses would be different. I saw how “good hair” was treated and sometimes it hurt as I knew my hair was never going to be like that I accepted that and I actually liked the versatility of my hair so why didn’t everyone else ?
I recently stopped wearing wigs and started wearing braids again as I am proud of my African heritage but I do miss wigs and I love switching it up. I kinda prefer how i look with them on. I know yes I should decolonise your mind but i can’t help it. I hate the questions I get when i wear wigs. From white people and black people. “Oh why do black girls wear wigs” “You should love yourself” “Embrace your natural hair” So what do you think ? Should I wear wigs or embrace my roots? Is it self hate to wear wigs as a black woman ?????