If you were given the chance to change anything about your appearance, would you do it?
Many people, including myself, would answer yes to that question. It seems like everyone has that thing, that one thing, they’d love to change; for me, it was my curly hair. I don’t recall the exact moment that I started to hate my curly hair, the moment where I knew that I would give anything, do anything to be rid of it. It’s a sad realization to come to, that you hate a part of yourself so much, you’d jump at the first chance to change it…but how had I come to this realization?
To answer that question, I need to go back to early middle school (thankfully, only in memory). A time when teen comedy movies were at an all-time high and it was somehow acceptable to wear short skirts over jeans. Like many, I indulged in those movies and found comfort in their recycled plotlines and identical-looking brunette love interests: that is, until some of them started to feature a specific scene. You know, the one where the girl—who’s obviously a nerd because she wears glasses—goes through a glamorous transformation. But wait, not only did she discover the existence of contact lenses, but she now had straight hair; and even worse, she’s only now seen as attractive (I’m looking at you, Princess Diaries). Even younger me knew that something wasn’t quite right about this, but still, it wouldn’t have affected me that much if every other industry wasn’t portraying the same image. From models to actors and musicians, everyone had straight hair. Even girls whose hair was naturally curly had to straighten it for a role or a shoot. We all know the media doesn’t have a great track record when it comes to representation, so really, what did I expect? But that still didn’t make growing up with only this narrative, that straight hair equals beauty, any easier.
Though I would consider the lack of curly hair representation in the media as the catalyst for the way I viewed my hair in the coming years, I don’t think it would have been so bad if I had been taught how to properly care for my hair. The lack of awareness on how to care for curly hair, which I would say is definitely improving but was a much larger issue while I was growing up, was detrimental to not only my perception of my hair but, especially, to my hair itself. Like most girls, I learned about hair care and treatment either through my friends or through beauty vloggers. I would open YouTube and find whichever beauty vlogger was popular at the time; I’d watch their “favorite hairstyles” videos and rush to my mirror to try and recreate the looks. I quickly realized that no matter how hard I tried, pulled, and twisted, these styles were just not made for my hair type. You’d think I would’ve recognized that, subsequently, any hair products these vloggers recommended were also not going to work for my hair—but alas, I didn’t. This led to many years of me unintentionally damaging my hair, all because the most popular hairstyles and products just weren’t intended for curly hair.
I tried to retain whatever shred of confidence I had left, but it was getting increasingly difficult. What frustrated me the most was having other girls ask me whether I would be straightening my hair for some event or occasion, and then having to deal with their bewildered expressions and questions when I told them no, I wouldn’t be straightening my hair. I couldn’t blame them though, at least not entirely, because we were all conditioned to view curly hair in the same way, as less than, so their reactions were entirely “normal”.
This would be the time to tell you that I had reached my breaking point, but that’s not exactly true. It wasn’t a culmination of events that led me to break; rather, it felt like every new incident was confirming my already existing, albeit initially small, insecurity. Every day that I put my hair in a tight bun because I hated the way it looked, every time I aggressively brushed my hair in an attempt to make it less frizzy (which every curly-haired person knowns only makes things worse), even every time I gave in and straightened my hair, I was reaching my breaking point.
Thankfully, I decided that enough was enough, but I would be lying if I said that I woke up one day and suddenly decided to love my hair. It was a gradual process that took a lot of inner work and persistence for me to finally start appreciating my hair for exactly what and how it is.
I look back on most of my school years with sadness (mostly because school sucks) and regret, because I wasted so many years hating my hair and letting myself be consumed by these one-dimensional narratives. Now, I can’t help but wonder how different I would’ve been if I hadn’t suppressed and damaged my hair for years. How many new looks would I have tried, how many different haircuts would I have gotten, if I hadn’t been so busy trying to hide the fact that my hair is curly? The only thing giving me some form of comfort is knowing that with every day I spend nourishing, appreciating, and loving my hair, I’m making younger me so proud.
Growing out of the cycle of self-hatred isn’t easy, and I don’t think I’m fully out of it yet myself, but I have to try. Every day I’m learning not to let the latest trends or other people dictate the way I view myself and my hair, and I know I’m better off for it. I don’t recall the exact moment I started to hate my curly hair, but I’ll never forget the moment when I decided to start loving it.
Comments are closed.