Back then
From as early as I can remember I have been obsessed with my hair. As a child I would study the twists and turns of my delicate coils, and cry when my mum would brush the knots out – I guess you could say the obsession morphed into a love-hate relationship. In primary school I convinced myself that long hair equated to ease and beauty. Being of African descent, I would compare my hair to my Caribbean and mixed-race friends who had longer, defined curls that would slick up easily. Meanwhile, each morning I would struggle to tie my hair into one.
That’s when I discovered the word of braids. The access to instant length changed my world. Just by having hair that ‘swished’ made me feel ‘seen’ and ‘pretty’. In secondary school and college it was all about relaxing. Gliding a comb through my hair without tugging was liberating. It compensated for the burning sensation I would feel when the cream was slathered on or the scabs that invaded my scalp for weeks after. Of course now I know them to be chemical burns. But this was my misguided quest to long hair – oh the irony!
Now
The damage that came from relaxing – split ends, thin edges – led me to discover wigs and weaves. The variety of colours, lengths, and textures gave me the breadth to experiment with my look without compromising my hair. I started out by wearing a conservative 14 inches and graduated to 30-inch braids when Beyoncé exhibited her iconic Lemonade braids. By the time I was in my mid 30s not only did I own 15 human hair wigs, but the natural hair movement had come and conquered, giving me confidence to go completely natural. Transitioning from bone straight relaxed hair to naturally kinky hair was a happy accident. While I continued to alternate between wigs and weaves, I went on a mission to learn how to look after my own hair. It wasn’t long until the algorithm on my Youtube and Instagram went crazy with content like “how to grow type 4 hair”, “why your 4c hair isn’t growing,” “how to stop 4c hair shrinking”. I began to use methods like co-washing to maintain length and growth. Plus, the shelves in the hair shop were overflowing with innovative natural hair products – rice water, anyone? – as black women across the globe were embarking on a similar journey.
My mindset today
The moment I stopped thinking about length and focused on the health of my hair, it began to thrive. I’d be lying if I said I embraced my natural hair overnight. I had to re-learn what my coils liked and this required patience and a ton of nurturing. Looking back, I’m aware of the conflicts I and every black woman faces when it comes to their hair; the struggle of contending with Western beauty standards i.e. long hair being the epitome of beauty, to facing judgement and backlash from the black community – “do you think your a white woman wearing that straight wig?”.
Loving long hair doesn’t detract from my blackness. Black women possess the gift of expressing themselves in a multitude of ways – and social media proves this. My hair is now my #mood. Sometimes I wear it out if I’m feeling care-fee, and if I want to spice it up, I’ve got the option of wearing a platinum blonde wig. My attitude is hair represents fashion, fun, creativity and at a deeper level freedom, self-acceptance, and self-love. Now who doesn’t want that?
Brands to bookmark
Avoid a Jada-Pinkett-style entanglement with your long tresses
Feature image: model is wearing Feme Wig Nouveau Straight in colour DR4/22
