Charting Virgin Territory

This is me, December 2010; hair freshly relaxed.

I’ve written the first entry for this blog countless times in my head. It usually starts with a question: Why would I do this?

My personal journey toward natural hair has been in the making, if only on my mind, for years. Saying “I recently found the courage to go natural” sounds silly at first but, if we’re honest with ourselves, we’ve all been afraid to be ourselves at one point or another. Fear of ridicule or rejection is something a lot of us have lived with, but we think that we’re passed that because we’ve grown up, lost weight, had our ears pinned, or covered up that thing we used to be teased about when we were younger.

My truth is that I won’t outgrow that fear until I’ve learned to accept myself for what I really am. Ask anyone who knew me in school, and I was the girl with the big hair. In elementary school, I had puffy braids. In middle school, it was big Texas hair (courtesy of foam rollers). By high school, I had a relaxer, discovered hot rollers, and you couldn’t tell me anything.

Kidding aside, I was always self-conscious about my hair. I couldn’t control it. It made me different. Now, I’m a mother of three little girls: each with a different hair color and texture. A day doesn’t go by when I don’t tell them how pretty their curls are, or how their hair makes them unique. Those are wonderful and encouraging words to tell them, but what message to they get when they look at my hair?

I’ve found the courage to start this journey now because I realize through my words and deeds, I’m shaping my daughters’ perceptions.

It’s time for this mutha to walk the walk – not just talk the talk.