I’m Not Braiding Your Hair Today!

The other day I saw myself in the mirror as bare as can be. Hair going in several directions, fly-always everywhere, untamed and certainly not slicked back! Sheesh, even my color had faded. Deep conditioning would be my best friend right now! I chuckled to myself as the flashbacks began.

When I was in Elementary school, I was one of the only little girls who had natural hair. It was curly, thick, long, and stretchy. I did not think much of it until I started climbing, running, and being the “sporty” type. My mom would send me to school one way; I would come back looking another way. My hair easily frizzed out or became undone. I never came back with both my ribbons or barrettes.

Somewhere between elementary and middle school, I noticed my hair was not acceptable. I wore signature puffs, cornrows, twists with braids in the front, or occasional box braids for summer breaks. No one warned me of the impact of how harsh kids could be. Brainwashed by societal standards of beauty, the only comparable natural-haired women referenced by my peers were Whoopi Goldberg and Macy Gray. During, my era, they were considered the “ugly women”, and that is who people called me! Offended! That was an understatement. Why? Because my hair was not straightened and “up to par” with the girls in my class. Natural hair was not it. I hated it! My perception of beauty became equally distorted.

In middle school, I was the “homie” because I was not considered prissy enough! I didn’t come to school with “doobie” wraps, wash-n-sets, or Shirley Temple curls. I begged my mom to give me a relaxer in which she vehemently told me No! Boy, was I mad with her! She told me that my hair was the best of both worlds, that I could either wear it straight with press n comb or curly in its natural state. I did not care what she told me; my hair was “FUGLY.” On my best days, she gave me cornrows with twists. When I was on punishment, she refused to braid my hair. This made me resent my hair even more and gripe towards my mom! I now associated my natural hair with discipline in addition to feeling unattractive. It messed with my self-esteem especially going through puberty! Even my mom had beautiful long hair, and it was relaxed for years.

Only in preparation for Easter Sunday, I got “Sundays best”! Hot comb, big curls, and an actual “acceptable” style…I felt like magic! The minute I showered and the water caught my neck, my hair was DONE! If I played sports or had too much fun, my hair turned me into a Furby; I was back at the yuck square of one.

By the time I made it to High School, my style was a middle part, low bun or high sock bun, or simply my braids. I even got a chance to get extensions or once every few months, the flat iron. My straight hair never lasted since I was too active in extracurricular activities. Never an Afro!!! I would even try to play sick if my hair did not come out the way I wanted. I guess the pressure was on as well as me being tired of all of the microaggressions.

I would often hear:

“You have nice hair. If you permed it, I bet it’s long.”

“Why don’t you ask your mom to get you a wash n set?”

“Dang, your hair makes you look young.”

“You look like Macy Gray, y’all hair match.”

“Dready locs”

“You look nicer with your hair straight.”

Statements upon statements! There were just too many people trying so hard to fit my hair in their beauty standards! Now, don’t get it twisted, I felt lousy deep down, but I clapped back. I would never let them see me sweat! I’d mentioned how they’d burned off all their edges, or that they’d look like bald eagles by the time they got to college because the relaxer was making their hair thin or that they smelled like burnt chemicals since they sat there for hours while their scalps burned literally. Either way, immaturity, and ignorance took over those interactions.

My breaking point was when I was approaching my senior prom. I started it all over again, pleading my case to my mom about relaxing my hair. If I got it pressed and danced too hard or if it rained, I was going to be ultimately doomed. This time she changed the game on me; she went in the mirror and cut off the relaxed part of her hair, then went and got it professionally cut down into a “Ceasar.” I had a conniption I could not believe that she had cut off her hair right before my prom and now my prom pictures were going to look hideous. She was now bald; I was going to have the Chia pet for my most memorable moment! Long story short, I got my hair pressed, flat twisted, and styled into a high bun using a weave ponytail. It rained, but I survived prom despite the insecurities that came with my hair.

As an adult, it took me until college to just say fuck what anyone had to say about my hair. I started wearing my Afro, colored it, and started getting more creative with hairstyles overall. I still struggled a bit but I learned to embrace it more once, I made it through high school without actually getting a relaxer. The big knot in my stomach finally dissipated. I did have good hair! Those same young girls I met during my upbringing were now women asking me what my hair regiment consisted of. The truth was, I did not have one. My mom cared for my natural hair throughout my childhood years; she gave me heating cap treatments with organic natural ingredients out of the refrigerator/cabinet. Those commercial things that you see nowadays did not exist in my world then.

Today natural hair seems to be the norm. There are more options for natural hair than what I can remember growing up as a little girl. There are more black women on television with natural hair, headwraps, braids, etc. I am proud now of my natural hair. I enjoy leaving my hair alone, wearing twist-outs, and trying new products. For some women, hair is a fashion accessory, but for me, it meant so much more!

Here is what a young lady shared with me:

“I was bullied for having alopecia, Ms… told me I was beautiful, and that most bullies are just mad for what they don’t have. She told me that they were not on my level and that I was beautiful with my short hair. I decided to keep that mentality and now I love myself more than ever. I take videos and smile, my friends give me compliments. I don’t need anyone to tell me I’m pretty because I look in the mirror and see it for myself. I don’t care what anyone thinks about me…Thank you, Ms… for making me love myself again!”

I am blessed to have grown through my insecurities about natural hair to where I am now. I am a constant work in progress, but I get an opportunity regularly to role model to young ladies that natural hair is very much so acceptable. Whether your hair is short, long, curly, or whatever texture, it is still and was always BEAUTIFUL.

I appreciate YOU
Rayne