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Recently I lost a friend, I was in the transitioning phase of detaching myself from someone who I felt, no longer deserved me. And in an attempt to exert any real power. My hair had to face the consequences. I had just taken the step to go blonde. For those of you who dont know me I am a natural dark brown curly hair type of person. I enjoyed my natural hair in all its forms and never felt the need to adjust its individuality as it has a mind of its own. But this space in my life called for me to make a change, any change I could get in my reach I took it. And this week it was my hair. As I sat there under the scorching dryer heat I thought of all the moments in my life that led me here. The self love journey I had embarked on two and a half year ago seemed so far away. I had made so many strides in relearning how to love myself without seeking for that validation from anyone but myself. My father, aside from his height, jawline, eyes, and massive forehead also left me with this thirst for constant approval and security. For many years I stumbled with the idea that this could all potentially come from me. But because I am a visual learner, monkey see monkey do. All I knew was how to run away from anything that made me slightly uncomfortable and then turn around and unload all of it on the people closest to me for them to deal with and figure out. My hands are clean. But when I received that call any doubt in my mind about who I was and who I thought I wanted to be subsided. My friend who lived his life with so much joy and happiness was gone. Just like that, and here I was questioning my own existence. Among a rush of sadness I felt so selfish and it took the shape of guilt very quickly. I had never lost anyone close to me. When my grandfather passed I had just turned two and since then anyone who’s ever mattered to me was still alive. I kept saying “I have bleach in my hair, I have bleach in my hair” because my empathic nature just wanted to get up get in my car and go comfort his mother and family. When I finally made it to his home I remembered all the times I rode my bike to his house, or all the times I’d come to pick him up and run errands, or the simpler times when it was just to say hello. Now it’s to say goodbye. Nothing in life had prepared me for this moment. I had been so wrapped up in my daddy issues that I really believed in that moment this was the hardest part of my life. I was so wrong. The hardest part came after I realized how death not only takes away but it leaves behind as well. It left behind this heaviness of knowing I will never be fully ok. Of knowing that there will be moments where in the midst of laughter I will feel guilt because I’m laughing and you’re not here to hear me or laugh with me. It left behind this constant need that instead of security what I needed was control, control of my thoughts more than anything. And the subtle understanding that although his memory is forever in my heart and soul. The sad truth is that life simply does not stop revolving just because your world has stopped moving.