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For most families of color there are two very significant things of importance to the women: "good" hair and how well you can throw down in the kitchen. It's a shame if you couldn't cook because "how ever will you keep a man? Grandma taught that your hair was your crown and glory and thanks to Madam Walker, hair days consisted of three generations of Jones women sitting around the living room television set watching Murder, She Wrote getting our hair fried and laid for the gawds.
Growing up, I admired my grandmother. I would stare at her shiny, silver hair often and watched her curl it every night as I passed her foamed hair rollers wrapped in those crinkly tissue papers meant to absorb the excess Blue Magic grease she used. Sometimes she would let me comb it while we watched the old Western and karate movies. She and I had a common bond, but one thing I always admired the most about her was the family photo that sat above the fireplace.
In that photo she had the biggest afro and huge glasses, just like a disco queen. I never got to meet that version of her, but I'm sure she was cool.
In reflecting on my own hair journey, I realized I had never seen my natural hair until I was 23 or at least I couldn't remember its coarseness. I didn't even know I had a curl pattern. Perms and relaxers had become the simple solution to "managing" my nappy hair. It was a "rite of passage" to get your first perm when you came of age -- which was usually seven or eight in my family.
It was an answered prayer to the countless broken tooth combs, the "oohs" and the "ahhs" and the tear-stained cheeks on my tender head. It was a long-lasting solution to the temporary fix of the hot comb that left your hair straight long enough for you to go outside and have the heat and humid air puff it back up.
It was a problem solved to those greasy forehead burns hiding underneath a stiff bang that never moved even if it was windy. I went natural when it was the trendy thing to do. I transitioned for five months and in those months I wondered. Would it eventually be long and flowy like the hair gurus sweeping the internet like Curly Nikki or Hey Fran Hey?
So I braced myself for " the big chop " -- on a Thursday night, in my dorm room, done by my roommate -- and prepared to make my debut into the sisterhood of the kinks and curls.
I felt like I was making a radical statement in my blackness while at the time being the vice-president of my campus black student union. I felt validated when passing another natural and you sort of give each other that smile and nod of approval, almost like a warm welcome. But the truth beneath all of that lye, the dyes, the kits and the straightening systems was that a huge part of my identity had been deeply rooted in the notion that good hair meant kept hair -- that the only way to tame our hair was through the chemicals and excessive heat products.
I wasn't used to feeling the rain that closely on my scalp. I wasn't used to the warmth of the sun hitting my scalp. I wasn't used to feeling the cold chill of winter breeze on my scalp. I wasn't used to not having hair.
I thought my face was too fat and my head was too big to rock a TWA or tweeny weeny Afro. I felt weird and self-conscious being bald-headed during a time when being bald-headed had a negative connotation and was fuel for several jokes cracked. I had to learn to love myself in a different way Learning to love myself and take care of my hair created a ripple effect in my whole lifestyle.
Before I knew it, I was eating better, being more conscious of the products I used. I was learning how to style my hair differently and as my hair grew, so did my self-esteem.
I love my natural hair, my tight, undefined, 4C curls. My choice [to go natural] is tempered with self-understanding and a healthy dose of self-love. My choice is tempered with self-understanding and a healthy dose of self-love.
The tale of my mane is a love story. It is a radical and political declaration of the love I have for myself. It's a sisterhood within me.
My hair has history. It's been 'buked and it's been scorned, burnt, damaged, altered and it has survived. It's been a long journey of hair days, wash and go's, twisting and strong hands and arms.
I wouldn't trade it for the creamy crack. Embracing one's natural hair -- especially after years of heavily styling it -- can be a truly liberating and exciting experience.
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Beautiful Woman with a smoking body. It wasn't some secret hair tip Other good things to weave into this copy include: awards won, distinctions given, number of products sold, company philosophy just keep it short , interesting company history bits, and anything that makes a reader think you'd be awesome to do business with. Then I realized that I wasn't alone in the process of having to truly work with my dense texture. Offering exclusive content not available on RedTube.
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Suggest pornstar name. Thanks for submitting! Remove Ads. KimmyPaxx My curls started forming because my hair was finally healthy and able to grow. I had to redefine what I thought was beautiful, and now I love my big messy curls. I strive to have healthy hair, but it's definitely an ongoing journey to maintain healthy curls. Especially when I'm so scissor happy and love dying my hair so much.
Your hair can stop responding to your go-to products for a variety of reasons: climate changes, product buildup, hair dyes, split ends, and more. I always aim for big hair that's moisturized but not weighed down by products. You are your best when you begin to truly shine in your own light and find happiness in your imperfections, through the kinks, curls, quirks and all. My hair has been such a blessing of a journey that I wouldn't trade for anything else.
And the best part is that I didn't have to be anyone else but myself. I never thought I'd look good with it.
Plus, I had this super-amazing hairstylist in Washington, D. I kept trying new products people recommended for me. Through that experience, I realized what works for you may not work for me—everyone has their own unique coil and mine is special. I loved on my hair and nurtured my curls as if I was falling in love again. Gel products don't work for me, they weigh my hair down. I love cream-based products.
There are so many things I love about my hair. I love the way my hair smells freshly washed. I love the way people love my big hair, which so perfectly matches my big heart. I love the versatility my hair has to be curly, straight, braided, up in bun, or down with no direction. Love on your coils, nourish your coils, and flourish with your coils. Allow yourself to explore styles you never thought would work. Take the risk with your curls. It may become a part of who you are and shape your identity.
Love on every part of your crown and watch who you become. As the first six months passed, styling my natural hair taught me patience with experiencing awkward growth stages. It also taught me flexibility—cue failed bantu knots and twists outs.
And the understanding of products that work best for my hair. My former modeling agency always pressured me to wear weaves and my ex-boyfriend thought of natural hair as "nappy. This was before the natural hair movement really expanded in mainstream media around Instead I would paint women of color in afros and project my natural hair desires that way.
One day, I became tired of hiding it. I took my weave out and whole life changed. Some girls have lost their hair from it being burnt off due to neglect from stylists, thus having to resort to wigs or deal with long-term damage. I have 4C hair, so it's already a lot to handle and has a life of its own.
My hair seems intimidating to many people because I don't wear twist outs often or have a silky curly pattern. I've admittedly walked into interviews and castings hoping my hair didn't look "unprofessional" or "unkempt. These sentiments used to bother me until I realized they were totally right. My curly hair is me. It's the natural crown that I've been chosen to carry. When I alter it from its natural state, I lose some of the essence of who I am and of who I'm meant to be.
I'm meant to have a curly fro, and I'm madly in love with that. It has the ability to stretch, shrink, coil up, bounce around, and mold itself to objects around it. It has taken me so long to realize this.
After allowing multiple sores from a hot relaxer burn and damage my scalp, I realized my kinky hair is amazing in all its glory. My hair used to represent the psychological trauma ingrained in not only myself, but my mother, my grandmother, and previous generations.
Now my hair represents the power I have to change, to adapt, to be completely synced with the natural world around me. My hair is so much more than hair. By the time I was a teenager and getting my hair straightened every other week, I had no idea what my natural texture was. I relied on relaxers throughout high school and college.
When friends started to ask if I'd ever go natural, I was sure I wouldn't. My reason was that I didn't think my hair had a texture and was a little scared I wouldn't know what to do with it. I was scared of having to learn what to do with hair I didn't recognize beyond the new growth that I got permed the minute it showed up.
I had essentially been protective styling for years before I even knew what protective styling was. So after graduating I decided with all this new growth I might as well go all the way—it was a now or never type of situation. I transitioned the rest of the way until I was fully natural and clipped off the last of my straggly ends.
It took months to learn what to do with my hair and what products it responded to. I'm still learning all the time. But what started as fear of the unknown turned into curiosity about my curl pattern.
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Health and wellness touch each of us differently. When my birthday was coming up, I decided to treat myself to a professional flat iron and trim after avoiding heat styling for two years. I immediately booked an appointment for the following month. I thought I was going to be in store for a 2-inch trim that would give me sleek hair with ample body and movement. To my horror, Dyson told me my ends were fried and my hair was parched like a desert.
I needed a 4-inch cut. After Dyson made several suggestions to my routine, I left the appointment reflecting on my hair mindset and all the unhealthy hair practices I adhered to for years. In college, I cut off all my relaxed ends to go natural. My hair became short, dry, and kinky. Their words, along with the lack of representation and models who looked like me in the media, made me feel my hair was unattractive.
Like many women, I wanted to look beautiful. Societal standards dictate long, straight, or loose-textured hair as the ideal. Black women get prominently featured with a looser curl pattern or wearing hair extensions. Hiding my hair for long periods denied me the chance to learn and understand it.
Whenever I attempted to go extension-free, I struggled with styling my hair. My hair tangled easily, was crispy even with moisturizing products, and styles lasted for only a day. Hair styling products and tools overwhelmed my cabinets and rarely worked. Even worse, according to my eBay and Amazon order histories, I spent hundreds of dollars over the years searching for solutions. Forcing my hair to conform to a standard cost money, time, and confidence.
I wanted a low-maintenance, affordable hair routine. During my first appointment, Dyson gave me game-changing advice. All this time, while my conditioning products sat like goop on my strands, I just needed heat. Heat helped open the cuticles to better absorb products. Learning about hair porosity was one of the first steps that revolutionized my regimen. Once I started consistently deep conditioning my hair under a hooded dryer, I noticed my hair starting to behave better.
Tangles and knots decreased, my hair softened, and my kinks developed a healthy sheen. For years, black hair products with low-quality ingredients and hazardous chemicals dominated the shelves. Thanks to the natural hair movement, the market has experienced a shift toward more diverse options for Black hair.
This market shift indicates Black women are more concerned with encouraging their own hair to blossom versus chasing mainstream ideals. Adopting the right regimen transformed my dry, crispy hair to nourished locks.
More importantly, embracing my kinks and coils allowed them to flourish and grow. For many women, growing up with limited product options and media representation conditions us to think a certain hair color, length, or texture is the standard of beauty.
Now my idea of beautiful hair is simple. Before, I would roughly handle my hair out of frustration. Now, I treat my hair with patience and understanding. With curly hair, the gentler you are with it, the better it behaves.
As an extension of the body, hair deserves the same self-care and tender treatment we give other parts of our body. When you prioritize health, beauty tends to follow. Nikkia Nealey is a certified educator and freelance writer specializing in e-commerce.
She writes SEO articles and web copy for businesses that want to see their Google search rankings improve, and blogs about how to use compelling copy to convert potential buyers on her website.
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