I hate my hair.
Since I was young, other family members who didn’t know better always treated my hair as some sort of anomaly. In my elementary classes, kids would constantly touch my hair and ask me if it was real.
Being biracial and the only kid in my family with 4a hair type has led to many comments about my hair from others. I would hear comments such as, “It would be better off straightened, she would look more normal” or, “It makes her look so dirty and wild.”
I began to brush my curls out, and I was thrilled when my mom would bring me to get it occasionally straightened. I would rarely wear my hair out in its natural form because of what other people thought about it. Others’ views slowly became my own, and I learned to hate my hair.
I kept this hatred towards my hair for the longest time. My once lush afro had become brittle and dry.
It was not until I saw a pretty woman flaunting hair like mine that I began my hair journey. I was in awe of her and how healthy her natural curls were; I wanted my hair to be just like that.
The summer after freshman year, I worked hard to find the right products that were good for my hair and even made some homemade oils to help my hair stay hydrated. I would research for hours the best ways to wrap or braid my hair at night so that I could preserve my curls. I would keep my hair in protective styles for months and follow rigorous care routines, and then, finally, I began to see results.
It was not until the beginning of junior year that I truly began to see how healthy my hair had become. My curls were shiny and soft compared to the brittle stick-dry hair from freshman year. Still, I was still scared to wear my hair out in its natural form; I was afraid of what people would think.
I finally decided that it did not matter what people thought about my hair. Eventually, I let my curls free, and I have not regretted it since.
I finally decided that it did not matter what people thought about my hair. Eventually, I let my curls free, and I have not regretted it since.
Now and then, I still worry about what others think about my hair, but I try not to let it define me. Bad comments have become muses for me; I have embraced my hair fully with all of its potential.
Representation of different hair types is important. Afros, locs, braids, and Bantu knots have all faced the stigma of being unprofessional and unkempt, and that is wrong. So, I will wear my afro proudly and hope to inspire young kids like me who are uncomfortable with their hair.
I love my hair.
