There's a few facets to my fear.
1. What will it actually look like?
We've all seen those beautiful tumblr pictures of the pretty women with long, tame, luscious curls that flow down their back. I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't a little jealous of them. I mean, let's be real, their hair is GORGEOUS. The reality, however, is that most of hair won't look like that, at least not right away. My hair is already short and because I've had a relaxer for the majority of my life, I have no clue what the real, chemical free, texture of my hair is. I'm aspiring for my hair to be long and beautiful like it was when I was in kindergarten, but I have to be realistic and realize that's going to take hard work, dedication, and most of all, time.
2. Straight hair is beautiful. Say no to naps.
When I was in sixth grade, my family moved from the east side of Detroit to the glitzy suburb of Grosse Pointe Farms. My old neighborhood in Detroit was predominantly black. I saw kinky twists, zillions, corn rows and Afro puffs all the time. I even wore them. But in my new predominantly white neighborhood, I was surrounded by long, silky smooth, straight hair. At eleven years old, my idea of beauty began to change. I'm not too proud to admit that I began to think that in order for me to beautiful I needed to be like my friends. No more did I want to proudly rock my braids or naturally nappy hair. If I went swimming and my hair was even remotely the nappy "mess" that I thought, I would race home for my mom to give me the ever-praised relaxer. I remember the first day of my seventh grade year. My mom was supposed to press my hair for me the day before but life happened and she wasn't able to. She put my hair in one Afro puff with two spiral curls on the side. I didn't show her, but I cried. I couldn't begin to think that I was pretty or anything with that atrocity of a hairstyle. I was absolutely distraught about something as silly as my hair.
As I continued to grow up in suburbia, I heard soooo many comments and questions about black hair. Some of them were actually amusing. Others, we're just downright ignorant (like when I showed up with long hair a day after having my normally short hair---omg, your hair grew so fast!). I used to get so irritated with the constant questioning about why I can't wash my hair daily, or why I have to press my hair, or why I can't get it wet. Or, my all time fave, why I tie my hair up like aunt jemima. I realize now that I was so irritated not because they were asking dumb questions, but because I was genuinely embarrassed by my coarse hair.
3. Last, but not least, I'm terrified of what people will think.
In high school, I went through many different phases.Throughout each phase, I put off this super confident, I-don't-care-what-anybody-thinks persona. In reality, I actually did, and still do care. I'd be lying if I said I didn't have any self esteem issues. But then again, who doesn't? We're never going to be good enough in our eyes. In my mind, I could be a little shorter, have less manly arms, and have perfect teeth. I only recently started feeling truly comfortable in my own skin. And I owe a lot of that newfound comfort to my soon-to-be (27 days!!!) husband, Mike. He sees my so-called flaws and loves me anyway. He reminds me daily that I'm beautiful and to not change myself. I've gotten better at taking compliments and accepting that people actually do see something beautiful and worthwhile when they look at me.
Anyway, I'm a little scared that Mike won't like it. I'm giving him less credit than he deserves. This fear is just this stupid trick my mind plays on me.
So yeah, I'm going natural. It'll be hard. I'll probably start to crave relaxers. It's like a drug. But, I am promising myself that I WILL keep going. Sure, the process will be long, but I can't wait to see the results. I'll be posting about my emotional journey on here. You may think I'm a little silly for calling this emotional, but it is, for me.
Until next time, peace, love, and chicken grease. ✌️
--Ciara
