For one of my college courses I was prompted with the question: Who am I? I dread this question so much. I don’t know how to talk about myself, and I have to do it for two to three pages. How will that ever work? The problem is, I am still trying to answer that question myself. I am still growing and learning about myself as I get older. How is it possible for me to put down on paper who I am when I am not even sure? I am definitely not the same person as when I came into college nor am I even the person I was yesterday. I knew that the paper had to be done so I decided to take that as an opportunity to learn about myself while earning a grade as well. By the end of the paper I ended up questioning the meanings we put behind labels as a society.

To start growing up I never really thought I was like a typical child or teenager because everyone around me wanted boyfriends and to go to parties and there was always some sort of drama. I always felt a bit childish because I was very content with playing with my friends outside. That other stuff never really caught my interest. I worried about making sure my parents were satisfied with my grades not what the next girl said about someone.

I also stood out a lot because of the way I dressed and whatnot. Not that it was so unique and different. More so due to the fact that I wasn’t wearing the newest brands nor was I interested in doing so. I would get made fun of because I was wearing a brand that nobody had heard of or a brand that went out of style last year. I didn’t even know what was popular because I wasn’t really exposed to it. The schools I had attended had uniform policies so the big thing was shoes. You were cool if you had Nikes but if you had Jordans or Timberlands then you were basically the best of the best. I couldn’t afford to have those so I stuck with Nikes or Adidas, and that’s when I was actually fortunate enough to get any brand name. I never really understood why a brand mattered so much when it could be the same exact design and serve the very same purpose. Now that I am older and shop for myself I don’t care about having Jordans. I like Nikes because that’s what I grew up wearing and what I feel most comfortable in. I will shop for I believe to be a nice design and reliable shoe that will last. That doesn’t mean I won’t splurge here or there, but that’s just not something I am super into.

The biggest thing that I feel defines me not only in my younger years, but even today is my hair. My go to hairstyle was braids. Any type of braids whether they were singles or cornrows you would always see me with braids in my hair. When I was young all the girls were going to the salon to get their perms. My mom would buy the box perm and then would proceed to destroy my hair. It was like no matter how many bad perms I got my mom was relentless in trying to get me to achieve that perfect straight silky hair. Then I got a bit older and the girls around me began getting weaves. My first weave was from the hair store (A big no no in the black hair world). It was a synthetic and real hair blend (Another no no, you have to have real virgin hair) and I had it glued in (Sews in only!). It looked good the first week but I was ready for it to go by the second. And when I was finally allowed to take it out a good bit of my hair came out as well. I began realizing that the perms and cheap weaves were not worth it, I was damaging my hair and it didn’t look cute enough for me to endure all that pain. I kept up with my braids and stopped getting perms all together. When I felt my hair grew enough I cut the straight pieces and began to just wear my natural hair out.

I received so much hate for my hair. It was mostly jokes that I laughed at. I wondered however what about the people that are sensitive to criticism, or those who received real hate. Not only from their peers, but also from family. I always felt that if someone needed to be supportive through the journey that natural hair entails it should be family. Nonetheless I continued on my natural hair journey and I found the longer I stayed natural the more the insecurities faded. Now it seems that everyone has hopped on the natural hair game. It actually really excites me when people tell me they want to go natural. The best was when my mother cut her hair off and decided to go natural.

I feel so strongly about beauty standards and image in today’s society. Some days I have to question whether I actually want to leave the house with some of my bolder hair choices. And it should not have to be like that. Woman, especially woman of color, should feel comfortable in whatever hairstyle they see fit. If a permed hairdo fits you then by all means where your hair that way. There has been far too many comments from too many people that conflict with what society wants from us women. If we straighten our hair we hate ourselves, if we get a weave we are trying to be white, if we are natural then it’s nappy and needs to be done. If I’m bald I’m too masculine.

I know there are a million and one problems in our society, but the one I most face and feel I can speak with passion on is the beauty standards woman are expected to abide by. I cannot imagine myself spending $300 plus on a weave and then another $100 plus to get it installed, but that is just me and it shouldn’t be crime that I feel this way. Nor does it reflect badly on the people that do spend money to get their weaves. One should not have to bash someone else to validate themselves. If I could change the world I would definitely advocate to not only the black community because there are a lot of non-people of color that need to get in on this conversation. I want to change the way to world view beauty, it is perfectly okay to have preferences but to belittle someone for not looking a certain way is absurd.

I want to open the conversation about beauty standards in this society. Women criticize each other for their looks and continually disrespect one another. This in turn give men the invitation to disrespect us. There should not be only one standard of beauty, if there were we’d all look the same with no variety. There are certain things that have been instilled in us for centuries and we have to break the mold that society has create and celebrate our difference and our individual style.