I Am Not Just My Hair

I have a small confession..but if you know me, you probably have figured this out. I suffer from alopecia, which is a form of hair loss, caused by PCOS. I can remember the first time my hair fell out in clumps in the shower, I cried for hours. For someone who grew up with long hair down hair waist, this was a wake up call. Also served as a hit to my confidence. I like most other women see my identity in what’s on my head. It’s the first thing that men who pursue us notice or woman when they size up their competition, because let’s be honest that still happens, whether we acknowledge it or not.

The song by India Arie “I Am Not My Hair” came out around the same time, this started to be an issue for me. As a child, my hair was my absolute Crown Jewels, I never cut it always just got it trimmed. I didn’t get chemical relaxers in my hair until I was about 6 or 7, along with the hot comb treatment, because that was when it was obvious natural hair wasn’t always accepted. In first grade I had wings, aka side parts that would fall out of my braids, I was picked on, so I cut my hair in class. Looking back, I just wanted to fit in. Before that moment, I was always proud of my hair, my mother couldn’t braid, but she did know how to twist, the other hairstyles were left to the professionals. Then the day came when a trim, turned into a haircut, that was unexpected and a disaster.

From the point on my hair, didn’t grow back properly. It had split ends and had to be put through, oil treatments, to bring it back to life and have the body it once held. While from that point I had to learn to take care of my hair differently, I mean what’s “hair mayo” right? Maintaining curls and making sure that it always looked presentable was my preteen goal. During that time I went through many protective hairstyles including extensions and braids during the summer and school, because it sucks to be tender headed. High school was more of just being like everyone else. I did the braids, anything low key, because I was a tomboy and played sports.

By sophomore year, I was more feminine, and was careful about how my hair was, and makeup became a thing for me. To be a teenager in the early 2000’s was interesting to say the least. It’s hard to be 13 and a half and in high school with 15 year olds. Maturity was pushed pretty fast, both mentally and sexually, since many had been either active or even pregnant. I was just trying to survive classes and making the transition from grade school. Teachers I knew and were used to, were replaced with strangers, who I had to prove myself to. I know hair at this point may seem a little silly, but it’s the one thing that has always been there through my life’s journey. From winter hats shoved on my head, to my favorite beanies, my curls have been my companion.

Fast forward to age 21, when the hair loss became a little bit more noticeable, I began looking for treatments to hide what was already obvious to me. That’s when I was introduced to wigs, that could look exactly like my hair did and served a dual purpose. Less upkeep and of course the vanity aspect of things, I’ve been told by someone in the past I’m very high maintenance. Truth be told, unless you have gone through a similar experience, keep your comments in the peanut gallery. Over the course of the next 17 years, I’ve paid $1000’s of dollars to keep this low profile. Sure there were times when yes it’s totally obvious I’m wearing a wig, but I would rather have something on my head, then be embarrassed by lack of femininity.

This past year, I’ve learned that it’s okay to go all natural once in awhile, and let the small growth I’ve had breathe. My position is different and I’m more in the front view than behind the scenes now, literally the first and last person you see in the enterance that I’m placed in. I’m thankful that no one has ever made a big deal about it not always being “human hair”, they just accept that it’s something, like others I do. Hair extensions, tapered and clip ins are somewhat of a common place thing, that it’s not considered normal. The person at the end of the day who has to except how I look with or without a wig, extensions, etc is myself. Only two men have ever seen me without one and that is a bearing of my soul, because it’s something that I consider me feeling naked, exposed. Both were very accepting, even if I can’t really.

I think that it’s more so a psychological thing, which makes us believe we don’t always measure up. The thing is we need to stop comparing ourselves to others, which leads to body dysmorphia and shaming of ourselves. Tik Tok, IG and Facebook do not sleep with you at night, you shouldn’t be sitting there in tears, wondering why you don’t look like them. We were creating in a vision of what individuality and unique is, the traits that we carry aren’t to be duplicated. You see when I look in the mirror and shake my curls, I’m reminding of who I am, what they represent, which is my family’s DNA, the curl pattern that matches my grandmothers and the way they fall, like my moms did after she conditioned her hair. So you see the thing I loathe about myself, is the one thing that I love the most. I am not just my hair, but the tapestry that it adds to my life.

Take Care,

Taaury37