HOW I KNOW I WAS BORN TO FREAK
A guest post by Houkje Ross
I had a dream the other night where I was making out with a guy in plaid pants. These pants were really, really loud. Kind of reminiscent of something one might see on a golf course… or maybe in a bar, in 1974.
In 1974, I wasn’t yet two. According to my mother, I didn’t have hair until I was two and a half. Instead, I had a layer of fuzz. She used to put a red ribbon on my head when she took me with her to the grocery store, so people would know I was a girl.
Little did she know that when the hair would come in a few months later… it would be a tight, curly, frizzy expression. My hair has always been loud.
This is how I know I was born to FREAK.
My hair stands out. It is —aside from my name— the most obvious thing about me. When I first came to Washington, DC, my friend Kenya thought I was black… because my hair was like hers. She took me to a salon where they straightened it. For a few days, I had perfectly straight hair that I could feel swing down the back of my neck. It felt luxurious.
I took pictures, lots and lots of pictures of me with straight hair.
I hated my hair when I was little, because the last thing I wanted was to be loud or freaky. I was a quiet, introverted child, with an extreme ability to focus inward. I could play for hours by myself in a dream world that I made up among my dolls.
My hair was teaching me to freak.
The dream that I had the other night… the one with the loud pants…it came with a message. I’ve been dabbling in dream analysis… Jung-style.
Carl Jung believed our dreams are a window to our unconscious. He believed that dreams serve to guide the waking self to achieve wholeness and offer a solution to a problem you are facing in your waking life.
Merge the soft with the loud of your life…
There comes a time in everyone’s life, when you say, yep, this is me, big freaky hair and all!
I didn’t start listening to the freaky until I got the pictures back that I had taken of myself with straight hair. I looked at them… but didn’t really see myself. I saw someone with straight hair… someone who looked like me… but wasn’t me. My loud and freaky was gone.
Up until that point, I had fought the loud. Fought the curls, tried to control the curls.. tried to hide the curls. But when I saw myself with straight hair… it wasn’t me.
I missed the loud. I missed the freaky.
My dream reminds me to find the other parts of myself that are just as loud and freaky as my hair… and to let them out, too.