Since the dawn of time, whenever a Nubian queen, needed to address an unmanageable situation. She would set out on a quest, to the salon. The place, formally called; “the hairdresser.” To beautify, enhance her natural glow. The deNial, why would anyone; when her beauty, flows like a river. While there, she would surely become enlightened, with the latest news. For some, the wether or not, even if you didn’t ask for it. Forecasted, the possible hot tempered, or the possibility of the cold shoulder. What happens in the salon, would mostly be broadcasted… outside. My Nubian beauty, never felt the need to engage. Her heart, chose the path of virtuous. She would sit, on her rightful throne, with stylish fashion, make her intent known. Some queens, made the dialogue be, about establishing dominance. She, focused on the productive, what wasn’t toxic, to her crown. Sometimes, the beautify encounter seemed, like a sparring match; the bob, and the weave. You bear it, and grin, trying to keep the peace. The subjugation, reigning wayward thoughts!
Even though, weaving seems like a grudge match? Love, not about the upper hand. Loosening the grip, on love extended, eases the tension. To let your heart get tangled, up in a not so subtle exchange. The hairdresser, a name rarely used these days. The new title, is more stylish, sophisticated; “as a salon, and spa.” Where you go, to get your hair did, your nails did, your feet did, your face… did I mention? True beauty, resonates from within. A Nubian queen, have that “je ne sais quoi. (a quality, that can’t be easily described). Natural beauty, it’s a real ting; dem ah fi tek you serious. (they have to take you seriously) For, every beautified soul, showcases your presence, as royalty. A heart, looking so fly, like a graceful butterfly. Knowing, how to withstand pressure. Makes the resolve, a fabulous measure. Making you, wanting to grab your rag and wave, jamdown style. Caribbean queen, don’t ever throw in the towel. When you get home, love will be… forever. Though, life makes you feel, like you’re losing the fight, and your mind, with every tug on the heartstrings. Nubian, pray for strength, and you will, surely endure to the end(s)!
Nubian, “And after you, have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.” 1 Peter 5:10 ESV
This piece, for all the black women. Who had to endure, every beautifying encounter, for love, and with grace. I originally, wrote this as a draft in 2015, not sure if I would post it. I was inspired to share it, by a piece I read about black hair. And so, I rewrote it, for black history month. My Nubian and I, have been married for 34 years, this May. Seeing her, go through the long sessions, and the process involved. Makes me appreciate, what women go through. Even though, this is tongue and cheek, and though some may not get the humor, or have never been through the experience. I wanted to honor, all the Nubian queens. For what they do to look their best, for themselves, and the ones they love!