I’ve never been a “hair person.” In fact, I’ve always had the most minimal knowledge when it comes to caring for my hair. I can plait, twist, wash, and maybe on a good day, I’ll blow-dry it and—if luck is on my side—get it into a bun. I lived braided style to braided style and aside from that, I never thought much about my hair. But last year, I started my loc journey.
lots of convincing.
Over the past year, I’ve learned more about my hair than I have my entire life. It’s been a journey that has tested my patience, strengthened my character, and completely changed the way I view myself. A loc journey is no walk in the park, but it has been one of the most interesting experiences of my life. Now, a year into my journey, I can look back and reflect on how much I’ve grown—not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well.
Mum can I get locs? No. Mum can I get locs? No. Mum can I get locs? No. Mum can I get locs? No. Mum can I get locs? No.
source: Unknown
I recall fighting with my hair during the holidays, when I’d leave school and have to give it a break from the three months of braids I’d usually wear. And that’s when I thought locs would be an easier solution. But due to school regulations I couldn’t get locs, and I was left waiting. So, when I finished school, I made it my mission to get locs (I tried). It took me a year and a half to finally start the process.
During that year, I went for a consultation at a salon in South London. I sat down with an older woman, and another man was getting his hair retwisted by a loctician. We flipped through a folder filled with clipped-out pictures of different locs. Let’s just say, those images had nothing on my Pinterest board. I had so many questions—questions I didn’t want to find answers to on TikTok or YouTube. Was my hair healthy enough? Was it the right texture? What should I do to prepare? What size..??
She smiled and said:
“you’re Black, you’ve got perfect hair for locs,”
and the older man chuckled. I didn’t ask any more questions after that.
lots of locticians.
Time passed, and I found myself in Manchester at another salon with the hope of leaving with starter locs. I arrived with my Pinterest board in hand, ready to use it as a sizing reference. I knew that locs weren’t one-size-fits-all. Because hair is unique, and the size of your locs depends on texture and personal preference. We talked about styles and expectations, and after a few hours with Xenia, I left with my starter locs. I was shy to talk at first, but she was about to change my hair forever, so I warmed up and started talking.
Sooo my coils unravelled—because that’s what coils do. But my overall motivation was low so I had no reason to attend classes and nowhere to be so it was okay. I messaged Xenia in a panic and she fixed it up. Then I saw her again, closer to my birthday and she retwisted and styled it.
Life had it that I moved back to London about two months after getting my starter locs, and commuting to Manchester was not sustainable. Wary of Instagram stylists and nervous about the experiences I had heard from others, my brother (he deserves this credit) had a recommendation. He introduced me to Quedma, who took care of me while I was in London. Once again, I found myself in safe hands, chatting about life and watching reality TV during our sessions. No horror stories here—just the reassurance that my locs were in good hands.
Quedma, like Xenia, didn’t just work on my hair—she’s been invested in me and my journey. Even though I don’t see her every day, there’s a sense of partnership in this process. Having two women who are invested in my hair—and in me—has made all the difference.
As my locs have grown, so have I. It’s not just about the length of my hair—it’s the growth I’ve experienced mentally and emotionally. It’s special to have these women see the progress in small, intimate moments that might go unnoticed to others. Their encouragement and expertise have made this journey feel supported, safe, and meaningful.
lots of patience.
Are those supposed to be locs?
source: A friend?, April 2024/Month 2
I quickly realised no one really prepared me for how often I would have to explain locs. It’s one thing to explain barrel twists in an office where my co-workers are all Chinese, but it’s another to explain to people with type 4 hair, particularly 4c hair, that our hair shrinks. Among my friends, I was the only one with locs, so while I was learning patience with my hair, I had to learn patience with others as well. I found myself explaining how locs work to people who didn’t fully understand, helping them see that what was happening to my hair was completely normal. The shrinkage, the unraveling, the slow progress—all of it was part of the journey.
Everyone’s loc journey is different. Some people cover (not hide) their starter locs with wigs or braids during the early stages, which is not surprising considering the magic Chloe and Halle do. I kept my locs out for the first year, experimenting with colors and styles along the way. I dyed them ginger, burgundy, brown, and black—with permanent, semi-permanent, and henna dyes. I pinned them, curled them, tied them with bandanas, tried half-up, half-down styles, and experimented with buns and barrels. As time passed, I unlocked more creativity and interest in styling my locs.
lots of lessons.
Locs are truly what you make them. I was advised early on to take pictures along the way, because time flies faster than you realise. They weren’t lying. A year later, I can’t believe how far I’ve come—from shaking my thoughts to shaking my locs. It’s been a journey of self-discovery, patience, and growth.
Over the past year, my locs have taught me the beauty of patience and acceptance. I’ve had to learn to let things be, something that’s not always easy for me. As much as I might retwist, pin, or dye my locs, they have a mind of their own and will do what they do. The more I try to control them, the more they remind me that their process is their own. So now, I do my part—keeping them hydrated, clean, and well-cared-for—and let them evolve on their own time.
This lesson has extended beyond my hair. The process of caring for my locs has mirrored the journey of learning to accept and trust myself more. There’s a sense of freedom in realizing that things will unfold as they are meant to, without force. And just like my locs, I too am continuing to grow—learning to embrace the beauty in the process, not just the final result.