As a Black woman, I am no stranger to the implications of the importance of HAIR within our community; having hair…having a lack of hair…having fake hair…and etc. I don’t want to get all super deep but I’ll just say that having naturally long hair as a dark-skinned Black woman has definitely afforded me a certain level of qualification as EXCEPTIONALLY beautiful over the years. I remember very clearly being told as a child by random people, hair stylists, and even strangers, that my back length tresses were my meal-ticket (so to speak). “Girl, don’t you EVER cut that beautiful hair.” “Your hair is so long and black and healthy and gorgeous…you should never cut it.” “Your hair is going to set you apart from other brown skin and dark skin girls.” “You have a pretty face BUT all that hair really makes you stand out!”. “Your hair makes you looked exotic…mixed…part Indian.” (As if being ONLY Black was some kind of negative). I will stop here with the examples but I could go on.
I’m blessed b/c I had parents that always instilled in me my worth and it was not wrapped up in how I looked or how long my hair was…at least not in their eyes. So once my mom gave me the green light to be more liberal with my hair, I immediately started chopping it off. Even now, looking back at some of the ridiculous styles I had as a teenager, I was always very free and unbound by opinions. I looked in the mirror and saw a pretty girl…super skinny, but pretty nonetheless. So to me, a hair cut would only accentuate that beauty…make my features MORE visible.
Fast forward to a couple years ago, my hair had grown to the longest it had been since my childhood. Almost reaching my hip-bone, I found myself seeing styles I wanted to cut my hair into. As I started expressing it to people in general conversation, I started getting hit with the same comments from my childhood. It was like DeJaVu!! The difference is that, as an adult, I think I allowed the opinions to penetrate my spirit. I began to believe the lies. I tried to snap out of it…even got my bangs cut but even while getting that done, I found myself crying. OMG…it happened…I BECAME MY HAIR!!! What happened to the free spirit who believed I’d be beautiful either way? Where did she go?
Well, last year I had experienced some hair damage as a result of a visit to a Dominican salon. Lost quite a few large clumps of hair. BUT even with all the hair loss, my hair was still thick and long to the outside eye…not AS THICK & LONG as I knew it was before, but thick and long still nonetheless. That took me back to wanting a hair cut. So fast forward again… this time to the day before yesterday. Out of the blue, it hit me…I AM NOT MY HAIR!!! I texted a hair stylist I know…not even my regular stylist b/c I didn’t want her to try talking me out of it. I asked her could she cut my hair within the hour. She said yes. I met her at the salon and told her to shave the left side of my head. I asked her to put a cross in it as I surrendered any attachment to my hair to Christ. This is the hairstyle I originally wanted 2-years ago!! I love it and will leave you with Psalm 119:45 which states, “I will walk about in freedom, for I have sought out your precepts.”