My Hair is Who I Am
Ever since I was in Kindergarten, I noticed my hair was not like the other kids at school. I would wear my thick hair in four sections of braids while my peers had their straight hair shaped around their face. I was the only black girl in my elementary school years. I questioned why no one looked like me every time I walked through the gates of school. My peers made sure I knew I was different. They would make fun of the way my mom styled my hair and the color of my skin. When I would go home and turn on the tv, I saw my idols Hannah Montana, Selena Gomez, and Lizzie McGuire have pitch perfect hair in every episode. How come I could not have that? Why did I have to stand out? Seeing white women with beautiful hair made me question, was I not beautiful because I did not look like that?
In middle school, I became more secretive about my insecurities. After not fitting in with anyone in elementary school, I made it a priority to hide my appearance to fit in with my friends. I straightened my hair every day, and every couple of months I would wear braids to hide my hair. On days where my hair was straightened, I remember the panic I felt whenever rain would fall from the sky, the anxiety that tangled through my mind when my friends wanted to go to the pool, and the fear that someone would accidently get water on my hair. These unnecessary anxieties made my outlook on life negative. I wish I could rewind to my middle school days and live my life. Swim in the pool, dance in the rain, and have those water fights with my friends. I missed out on all of these memories because I was worried about my outside appearance.
High school is when my outlook on life dramatically changed. From freshman to junior year, I wore individual braids to help grow my hair. Every year, I would debate with myself if I should take out my braids. The only thing that would hold me back was my hair not looking the way I wanted it to be when I took it out. I knew once my hair was exposed, I had to commit to my appearance. When winter of junior year came around, I finally gathered the courage to take out my hair. My mom dedicated hours straightening my hair to make sure it looked presentable. Once my hair was done, I was shocked to see that my hair had grown significantly longer. For months I wore my hair with pride, flaunting the length and thickness of my beautiful hair. However, when October came around, I noticed my hair was starting to break off. I went to the salon for my senior homecoming and that was when the hairdresser told me I had not been taking care of my hair. “What do you mean?” were the only words that could come out of my mouth. She recommended that I wear my hair natural for a few months to give my hair a break from the heat. “No way!” I thought. I had already given up my pride to take my hair out of the braids, so why would I let myself go through hell again by wearing it natural? What would people think? I carried this mentality with me for the next three months. The more I stressed about my hair, the more my hair broke off. I had finally had enough. If I did not change the way I took care of my hair soon, I would not have any hair to take care of. January of my senior year, I finally decided to wear my hair natural.
My life has significantly changed in the eight months that I have worn my hair natural. For once in my life, I have learned to embrace the person God made me to be. Taking a step back, I have learned to realize that I went through these milestones with my hair to find myself. One major life lesson that I have taken from this experience is to not be ashamed to be myself in front of others. For so long, I was afraid of how my peers would view me if I wore my hair natural. Even if someone had a negative outlook on my appearance, I am not going to make that my reality. The thickness of my hair is not a curse, it is beauty. Everyone was made different to bring multiple representations of beauty to the world. Society should never feed little girls the “correct” picture of beauty. Instead, we need to teach girls to embrace themselves so they can realize the person they see in the mirror is beautiful. If I could do anything, I would tell my younger self to be herself and nothing more. The girl she sees in the mirror is enough. She is beautiful.
All pictures are my own.