Wisdom Tree : My 10-Year Journey with Freeform Locs

It has been a long time coming for me to write and share the rich history behind my Hair.

I was particularly inspired to write this story because—after a long, intensely personal and transformative journey, I have come to receive a lot of attention for my Dreadlocks on a daily basis. Over the years, many people have come to identify me—and my beauty—through my hair.

Some people think my Free-Form Locs are a hairstyle that I intentionally created and spend a lot of time maintaining.

Some people just think it looks “cool”.

Bless their hearts.

Walking on Earth with this masterpiece of nature —a godly force—is an experience unto itself that deserves to be given voice and heard. I could not allow time to pass—for this body to expire—and have my Crown be reduced to Ornamental Folly.

In other words…

We aint goin’ out like datt.

I understand that I was incarnated on Earth into this black female body as an expression of Spirit. To experience certain rites of passage-to grow into myself from a particular perspective-in a way that is most purposeful to my own Spiritual Expansion. To Our Collective Intelligence.

This body that I am housed in—with my brown skin, kinky hair, pussy, piercings…my worldly perspectives, sexual tastes and preferences—is just as real as it is a costume.

This delicately malleable set of adornments do not define me—but they are tools of authentic physical expression that provide meaning for greater Understanding. At the end of this Era, I must shed it all and move onto another frequency.

My intention through these words—is to pay homage to my Dreadlocks in this 10-year time capsule that we have experienced together. To the inner-growth and expansion I’ve experienced through growing, carrying and nurturing my Sacred Antennae.

To immortalize this expression.

This is my story.


⎮ ≒  Part I  ≓ ⎮

May 11th 2009

Just one day after my 19th birthday, I discovered my reflection through the fluorescently-lit mirror of my college dorm room, furiously ripping out my weave.

I was angry.

My fingers clenched into the intricately woven tracks that encircled my head, as I violently unraveled the stitches from my cornrowed braids. My arms thrashed about in a manic rage, as each piece of nearly-bone-straight human hair delicately floated to the ground.

“Never Again!” I screamed over and over in my mind, affirming each internal mantra with another cathartic rip.

Each painless tug and pull made way for the burgeoning open-air landscape of my scalp — my pores breathing long-awaited oxygen into my Crown Chakra, lightening the weight upon my head. Absorbing my Liberation.

It had been a very transformative year.

That prior Autumn, I had entered my first year of Boston University off the tails of a Long Lost Summer. For those few months before my first initiation into “Adulthood”,  I had spent most of my time and energy partying. Drinking. Smoking. Shopping for fancy clothes. Shopping for suitors.

My hair aesthetic at the time was—let’s just say—inspired by White Girlhood. I rocked super thin micro-braids that were plaited only a few inches down to the length of my natural hair–leaving a full mane of human-hair-weave cascading down my back like an Auburn waterfall.

I dolled myself up every day and effortlessly attracted a steady rotation of men who could buy me nice dinners and take me interesting places in their cars and motorcycles. Anything to stave off the ennui and turn my attention away from myself. I got a rush out of petty rebellion, and made a habit of disregarding laws that hadn’t earned my respect—whether it was the rules set by my parents, or those of society.

I had no sense of purpose and nothing to give f*cks about.

I was the Black Paris Hilton.

I got my hands on anything and everything that could distract me from the well of pain that had been growing inside of me. I was so involved in the whirlwind I had created, that I was not even aware of my pain—much less the source of it.

Until I had an experience that amplified it.


Artist Word

Thank you for reading an excerpt of my story. Wisdom Tree is one of the most vulnerable and richly heartfelt stories I have ever written. At 50 pages, it is also my longest finished piece to date. I am very proud to have climbed this mountain and reached a place where I can share with you.

Wisdom Tree is in currently the process of publication via E-Book Format. The finished version will include the entire story, photographs which were specifically captured for this Memoir, and selections from my archive of photos and youtube videos over the past 11 years. 

I would like to learn Indesign so that I can personally design and self-publish my stories, and freely share my voice with the world without bounds.

If you would like to support this work, please consider making a donation to my Writer’s Fund.If you donate €10 or more, you will receive a free copy of this ebook upon its release in 2020. Please feel free to donate here


I have other writings available in my Shoppe, which will also be released via ebook format, including another memoir I wrote this year, Divining Willow. Please include a note if you would like to order any of these stories. 

For more of my writings, please stay tuned via my platform N3VLYNNN and check out my sexuality and wellness blog at Haus of Isis

Thank you for your support. 

Bisoux<3

Credits : Photos captured by Alexandria Pierre Etienne

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