Having thick, curly/kinky hair is a blessing, but growing up, I didn’t see it that way. I remember the long hours I spent sitting on the floor with a pillow as my mom tried to shape my hair into some kind of style and hating every second of it. It made me hate my hair. Questions like, “Why couldn’t I have been born a boy?” Or “Why couldn’t my hair just be naturally straight?” would cross my mind as soon as the comb touched my head. As I grew older, my appreciation for my hair changed, but I know I wouldn’t have the same love for it if I hadn’t gone through experiences like the ones below that every nappy-headed girl goes through.
Hair Barrettes
When your mom had to make a stop at the beauty supply store, this was the first section you would run to. They had them in any color you could think of, and although you had a bag full of them at home, you always needed more. Anything with diamonds was on your must-have list even though your mom refused to have you walking around like a disco ball.
Perms And Relaxers
I remember begging my mom to let me get a perm, and she always refused. So many girls my age (I was about eight-years-old) had perms, which meant that I had to have one too. Luckily, I never got one so young, but these girls on the box seemed so beautiful to me, with their straight or wavy hair. They were like my idols and each time I walked in a beauty supply, I would pick up the perm and relaxer boxes wondering how I could be like them.
The Salon
I remember siting in the salon chair just balling my eyes out as the stylist pressed my hair. She kept burning me, and when she asked what was wrong, I just told her that I was having a bad day. The fact that I felt that it was okay for me to go through pain for "beauty" kind of scares me. Even when I get my hair straightened today, I get butterflies when it's time for my edges to get pressed.
Weave
My hair wasn't short, it went down to my shoulders, yet I still wanted weave. I had a cousin whose hair was shorter than mine, and she would always get upset when I said that I wanted weave. I just knew that I wanted my hair to be longer and weave could do that. Little me wanted hair that went down to her butt so that every time I sat down, my head would be yanked from sitting on my hair (my mom warned me).
There was so much that little nappy-haired girls had to go through and still go through today, both good and bad, and this is a very short list of experiences. I know that I have come to love my hair now, but I am not the mass majority of young black girls. Maybe it's time to change a few things so that we can get more girls and women with curls and kinks to love the hair that they have.
