For most of my life, my hair was a trifling mane — something to be tamed and relaxed and deep conditioned. Growing up, most of my good friends had straight hair or, at least, long hair that fell in waves and slipped through your fingers. It was so full of life, vibrancy and movement. I envied it and wanted my hair to move and dance like theirs and not curl up on my head like something dead.
I had, and still have, the unruliest and thickest hair out of my sisters. Dealing with the naps of three young girls is a daunting thing no matter the curl pattern (or lack of) and my mother used chemical relaxers on our heads from a very early age. I always loved getting my hair relaxed. Afterward, I could shake my head and see the short strands of hair move around. Not like my friends’ hair, but closer.
The creamy crack wasn't a part of my childhood, the creamy crack was my childhood.
But the relaxers never lasted long and my hair would shrivel up to a dry and kinky shadow of itself that was kept in a ponytail until the next relaxer.
When I was a little bit older, my mom started to put extensions in my hair. The girls at school were always so confused as to how my hair grew so quickly when I came back to class after a weekend of braiding. I tried to explain the concept of hair extensions to them but most never really understood it. That was fine, though – I could put my hair in pig tails and buns and big French braids just like some of them could. I had finally tamed my mane — the endless cycle of extensions and chemical relaxers and more extensions was a part of my life.
So when someone asked me why I didn’t wear my hair natural for the first time I was the confused party. Why would I ever want to let people see my steel wool, crocus bag, nappy curls?
It looks so unprofessional and wild.
It's totally unmanageable in its natural state.
You can't do anything with hair like mine. It's just too time consuming.
There is absolutely nothing cute that you can do with it!
OK, OK, I'll stop with the sarcasm. The misconception is still there! It actually took me a really long time to get over my fears about natural hair. It was just so strange and time-consuming. I felt as if the cost outweighed the benefits.
I am definitely not the only person who felt this struggle. In fact, little black girls everywhere often feel so self-conscious about their hair that Sesame Street head writer Joey Mazzarino was inspired to create a video about a young black (puppet) girl who is excited about all the things that her hair can do. The idea came to him when he realized how little his daughter, adopted from Ethiopia, liked her natural hair.
I must admit that it’s one catchy song. Not to mention the fact that the comment section is loaded with people like me who wish that they had seen this video when they were younger — people who grew up hating or being ashamed of a part of themselves.
At the end of the day, my hair is another form of self-expression just like my shoes, my jewelry and my nerdy t-shirts. When I was younger my hair was relaxed, representing a time when there just weren’t enough hours in the day to take care of my natural hair, a busy lifestyle and a want to have hair like the women in my older sister’s magazines. For the past year, whether it was in braids or twists or an afro my hair has been natural. This natural haired girl is one who is looking for new options, likes playing with her locks and is willing to put the time (and money) aside to experiment with her naps.
The acceptance of my hair and all the spectacular things that it can do has helped me to accept myself and others as well. I try not to judge girls of any hair texture or skin color for the way they wear their manes. Natural hair can be expensive and time-consuming to maintain. That's OK. Relaxed hair may seem limiting and too damaging to your locks. Fine, I don't judge. I'll just sit back and watch all the beautiful things that can be created with something so simple as hair. Relax it, braid it up, let it hang out! Whatever your “do,” you do you. At the end of the day, I really do love my naps.
Hello, curl pattern, my old friend.
