No Rain, No Flowers

I had finally made the decision, I was going to do the big-chop. I did a long hesitation before looking at all the inches of hair falling from my head. In a couple of weeks, I would walk into a new middle school. I had always been able to be myself around my elementary school friends. I knew I stood out, I did not look the way everyone else looked. I didn’t have long colored braids or long colored hair, and I didn’t have all the makeup and accessories. I began to realize, the people around me are not my friends. This was sixth grade,  I was new to this type of foul behavior. I started to notice that I was the topic of conversation when I wasn’t around. I started to become self-conscious. 
I would see the “inside jokes” on Instagram. Of course, everyone was tagged but me. I saw the subliminal comments about natural hair and I immediately knew these things were about me. I would go back and stare at all my pictures and wonder why they would talk so much about what I looked like. Some days I would sit in the mirror and blankly stare, in disapproval.
“What else can you do with your hair?” I began to look down on myself. I did not feel as confident going to school. The whole walk to school, I would rehearse how to walk through school and pretend I couldn’t hear what people were snickering about. It was hard to pretend that they weren’t there, it was even harder to pretend that I was comfortable with my appearance. I cried about what I looked like. I was made an outcast.
In the meantime, I was trying to fix what they made me feel was wrong with me. I had to maintain a face that masked what I truly felt. I had never felt so uncomfortable in my own skin. I walked through the halls with my head held high. This was all fake, I faked a lot of my confidence in school. The way I felt, I did not feel pretty or whole. I felt that all my pride in myself was snatched away.
By the end of sixth grade, I hated school and hated my appearance. In school, interacting was hard. I sat in the classes without a thing to say, I felt robbed of my voice. My next school  year was approaching quickly. I had to be around those who picked on me and did not like me. I had learned to not be phased by all of them. Everything was going to change because I refused to let anyone make me feel less than what I am. Even though people mistreated me and found things to snicker about, I had grown past it all. I started to say things back to their jokes, I would stand up for myself.
Seventh grade was an improvement, but the talking never fully ended. Mentally, I matured far more and was able to see myself as outstanding. No more being marked late to class because I spent ten minutes adjusting myself so I wouldn’t be laughed at when I walked in. 
I did not realize the major comeback that had I achieved. To myself, I had to believe in every single positive characteristic. The whole seventh grade was spent demanding all respect that I deserved and building new friendships.
I felt more confidence and self-love than I ever had. Stepping into high school, I had never experienced so much appreciation. I wasn’t used to any of it, people who tell me they loved my goofy vibes and humor. In school, my friends support me and compliment me everyday. It all shows how much I’ve grown. It still shocks me when I am told, “Tyah you are so confident in everything, you don’t let a thing phase you. I admire that about you, Tyah. Never stop being you.”

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