In recognition of the woman I'll never be.

A friend of mine recently went through a rebranding of sorts in all that she does. While the new her and the old her are similar in a lot of ways, especially her open and honest writing style, there are some things that have changed. I can look at her and see how this new focus has caused her to grow and develop, the changes have been incredibly positive in her life and it all started by being willing to distance herself from her comfort zone and taking a chance on being the full authentic her.

Needless to say, the people I truly consider my friends are some of the most inspiring people you would ever have the pleasure to meet - and obviously, they inspire and challenge me.

I've spent the past at least 4 of the past 6 years attempting to be something that I'm not - and frankly, I'm tired.

It wasn't until I cried for the second time this week in a conversation with a woman who is becoming less of an acquaintance and more of a friend, that I came to realize that sometimes to make things work out, to make things ideal, you have to compromise who you are - and for years I had tried.

I had tried in college to be the girl that hung out with all the cool kids, went out to the clubs, and was crazy. I indulged in my excess, it worked for a year until it backfired and in response I shut out everybody.

Or at least I tried.

Later, I would try to put on the face of the reformed. No drinking, no hanging out, being so cautious with my words, so protected with my thoughts, trying in vain to be someone else, someone I knew and admired and thought of as better than me.

I've only had 2 years where I truly felt like I was being true to myself and those were the years that I filled my life with poetry, music, writing, and what felt like sisterhood to the girls that lived on my floor at school. It was camaraderie, it was honesty, it was great.

I wonder if being an adult is just a series of compromises that we make to feel better about where we are in life. Do we change our personalities to make others more comfortable? And if so, how much do we change? Coming from a culture of being upfront and blunt about my feelings and being transported to a place where everything is fine and dandy and all about appearances is stifling, but today and for the rest of my life, I'm putting the mask down.

The things that make me who I am aren't bad, they're different. I'm a woman who loves to read and loves to talk, I'm loud and a bit impetuous. I sing, I dance, I scream, you can always tell when I come to work because my music is loud enough you can hear it before you can see my car, I eat all the time, and I love it. I love the little pieces that make up the bigger picture of who I am.

The hardest thing about trying to be something that you aren't isn't whether or not you succeed with deceiving the people around you, that's actually the easiest part, but the hardest part is understanding at your center that you haven't been authentic to yourself, that you're not free, that you've offered up only an empty shell of a person to those that you claim to be close to.

There's nothing wrong with being the person you are.

I guess after being around my friends that have seen me at my highs and lows, I'm realizing that being authentic is something that has to be valued. I know that not everyone deserves to see me in my full, and I also know that not everyone can handle me in my full, but those that can and do have always been the best. Tuesday I got a text from my friend that brightened my entire day:

I love you always. You're a bright light in my life. You're always welcome.

It was a short message with the most meaningful words that I could possibly receive. You're always welcome. Despite my crazy spells, my loud nature, my random decisions, and my general muchness, I was always welcome, and I know it wasn't just something she was saying for the hell of it. It was real.

I guess it was that message and several others that helped me to come to terms that I need to stop being a people-pleaser, I need to stop trying to make everyone a friend and realize that not everyone is meant to be a friend, that it's okay to not be liked, even without reason, and that the people who are worth my time, will be clear as day. Not everyone will accept me as I am, and while it may be a little late in the game to be willing to acknowledge this fact, I prefer getting it now versus never getting it at all.

The effects of a simple change

It's not often that I listen or care too much about what a celebrity has to say. Generally speaking, their words don't hold much weight outside of their own circle of friends because they're opinions. However, I will say that if I do look to celebrities for inspiration, it's hardly ever from the ones that we see on the television screen today. They range from activists to directors, photographers to bloggers and, on occasion, an actress or two.

Over the past year, I've had 3 major hair changes - the third happening last Thursday. (I'm sure you know where I'm going with this post, but humor me - especially those of you that are friends with me on Facebook or Instagram, lol.) Years ago, Coco Chanel said something about changes like this:

A woman who cuts her hair is about to change her life.

Well. She was right.

I remember a few years ago when I basically cut all my hair off to sport a TWA (teeny weenie afro as we call it in the natural hair community) and I hated it at first, mostly because the local hair dresser was terrible. After I made my way back home, my original hair dresser fixed it, dyed it, and boom - after a few days, I was in love. It was freeing, it forced people to really see my face which sounds kinda crazy, but since I didn't have to deal with my hair so much, it just made it easier to notice me.

It made me notice myself…and I took a bit of pride in that, not in a bad way, but more of a healthy dose of self-love.

Fast forward to 2012, I started working as a reporter in Florida and my afro had grown quite a bit and everyone loved it…but eventually I came to terms that my best move professionally would be to make another change, so in November I went back to chemically straight hair. It was a welcome change, I mean, I could swish my hair from side to side, throw it in a ponytail, do spiral curls, all sorts of things, but after 6 months of ponytails, heat damage, and laziness on my part, I decided I needed to make a real change.

So I cut it.

And I felt like I did when I first went natural. Absolutely terrified, almost to the point of tears, when I saw the hair on the ground being swept up, followed by a feeling of joy and freedom when I looked in the mirror. No long bang, no morning frustration trying to figure out what the heck I was going to do with my hair, just easy, relaxed, with more time to do what I feel is important.

The past few days have had more reading, more music, more fun, and newly opened eyes to things I want in life - and it's obviously not just the result of an amazing haircut, but positive friends that encouraged me as I debated doing it before hand and built me up after wards.

The new look!