Member-only story
How Shaving Off My Long Curls Felt Both Freeing and Confronting
A woman’s worth and beauty are not dependent on her hair
Until I reached puberty, my hair was simple, predictable, straight, and glossy. Then bam. It stuck two fingers up at me and said, “Watch this!” For the next 30-odd years, it proceeded to do whatever the hell it wanted, no matter how much wrangling and cajoling I did.
Curly ringlets underneath, frizzy waves on top. Sections at the front that were constantly shapeshifting, keeping me on my toes and fueling my exasperation. And so much of it! My shower would regularly clog up, and even hairdressers commented on how thick my hair was.
Every morning, I would wake up with a bird's nest on my head. For years, I straightened my hair; then, feeling conflicted about my authenticity, I embraced my curls and tried the Curly Girl Method. I can reel off lists of products and routines I’ve tried. And while some may well have worked, they all took time—time I wanted for living, not trying to make my hair look pretty and socially acceptable.
I dreamt of the type of hair I could run a brush through, pop it in a ponytail, and then get on with whatever adventure the day brought. But alas, that wasn’t the hair-hand I was dealt.
