Hair Story: “Where is my daughter? “

I am Rasta. I remember when after three years of having locks I saw my mom for the first time in 4 years. We waited about an hour for her at the airport. I was nervous but equally excited. I had found my now husband (a rastaman) and through him I had also found Jah, then came my locks. My mother arrived from Canada and her first words were “Where is my daughter? “
She touched my hair and asked me “Where is my daughter? What happened to your hair? What happened to you?”

X., 38, Female, Jamaica