All throughout elementary school, and a portion of middle school, I was the girl with the kinky, curly hair. I would look at myself in the mirror and think, “Why can’t I just have straight hair like everyone else?”

Everyone around me had bone-straight hair, or these beautiful, shiny, curly locks, and I had a wild lion’s mane that I could never seem to tame.

I didn't feel as pretty as all the other girls around me. All I wanted was to get a perm, but I wasn't allowed to, because according to parents, relatives, hair dresser, etc., I had “good hair” or “I didn't need it.” I also hated my natural hair because when it was time to get my hair done, I would want to run and hide, because I was super tender headed. The brush and comb were my worst enemies, and I figured that getting perms would make this process much less painful and traumatic.

I resorted to getting braids and eventually I learned how to braid my own hair as I grew older. I still didn’t embrace or appreciate my hair, but I learned to deal with it. I constantly wore ponytails, and people would ask me why I never wore my hair out. My response would be, “I just don’t like it.” It was as simple as that.

When I moved to Halifax, Virginia in 2008, I was beginning the seventh grade, and I figured it was a new beginning. I was starting school late, in October. My mother had taken me to the hair salon and I remember walking in and, once the stylist had gotten to me, I vividly recall her saying, “Look at all this virgin hair!” I constantly asked my mom if I could get a perm and she finally gave in to my requests.

I was finally going to be like all the other girls in my school! My hair was going to be straight, I’d possibly get a boy to like me, and I’d feel pretty. The moment I looked in the mirror at my long, black silky, newly permed hair I was stunned. Never had I seen my hair so straight and so beautiful and I felt like a new person.

I finally felt as if I would be accepted into the crowd because my hair was bone straight. I would never again feel like I wasn’t pretty enough. My friends and I would go around telling each other how often we needed to get a touch-up for our new growth or how our next hairstyle was going to be. I soon realized the downside of having perms.

The creamy crack broke your hair off if you didn’t take care of your hair properly; it had tons of chemicals that cannot possibly be good to put near anyone’s head (it has some of the same chemicals as Nair, the hair removal cream!).

I had to be extra careful when I went swimming and I had to wrap my hair up every night. It was a lot of work, but it wasn’t as much work as when I had “nappy hair” as I liked to call it. My hair had broken off a few times and I had to cut it. I hated it because I wanted my hair to be long like it was when I was younger.

I continued to get perms until I was in the 10th grade. I had thought about whether I should stop getting the creamy crack put into my hair long before then, but I didn’t feel as if I could manage my kinky coils again, and no one else had natural hair or wore it proudly. I didn’t want to stick out.

Today, I wear my hair natural and proud, and I love it. I constantly think back to when I got my first perm in the seventh grade and wish that I had never gotten it. No matter how much I wanted to be accepted, I couldn’t, unless I first accepted myself. Just because I was one of the few girls in my school that didn’t get perms didn’t mean I was alone or wasn’t liked; it just meant that I was a unique individual. I think to myself, no matter how you wear your hair, it isn’t what defines you. Be you and nobody else but you.