I think it’s fitting that my first photo dump centers my hair. I started growing my hair out at the top of the pandemic— initially the choice wasn’t mine... my barber wasn’t taking appointments, so I settled into the idea of just “growing my sides out.” But in that process I stumbled on a form of self care that has benefited me beyond the satisfaction of my braids finally touching the back of my neck. Through this ~journey~ it feels like I have reintroduced myself to myself Looking back at these photos from this current/past season of growth has me ruminating on two things 1) Watching my hair grow has taught me a lot about patience and consistency. Progress is more than what your eyes can see 2) I grew up in a home with 3 sisters and a mother, and I can’t help but mourn the loss of memories never made and lessons yet to learn due to obligations, expectations and restrictions prescribed by masculinity (or the idea of it). Looking at my hair (and not knowing what to do with it,) I am pissed that all my years surrounded by follically blessed women and never once got a tutorial on hair health, learning how to do protective styles or hell, confidently being able to wash my own hair (I pay extra for my hairdresser to do it, every time). By no means do I think it was my mother/sister’s responsibility to teach me these things but damn... I can’t help but imagine what that scene would be with me, my mother and three sisters seated around a vanity in our glory, holding brushes and detangling each others hair. Instead my Dad was forcing me to play football and get bald fades lol. Damn. Damn is all I can say. BRENT x ——— 🅽🅴🆆🆂🅻🅴🆃🆃🅴🆁 @readingwbrent 🅿🅷🅾🆃🅾🅶🆁🅰🅿🅷🆈 @brent_bestill 🆃🆆🅸🆃🆃🅴🆁 @ohhbrent ———