The journey to loving my hair has been as intricate as the strands that spring from my scalp. From boyhood, I was taught to perceive my hair as challenging—not just in appearance but also in its coarse and thick nature. Trips to the barbershop were dreaded occasions because I knew the barber would give me a hard time about my hair. While I rose from the chair looking fresh, the process was always a source of trauma. Raised by women, I absorbed valuable lessons through osmosis, but when it came to my hair, I had to navigate the terrain for myself.

As a boy in South Philly, there was little to no discussion or guidance on haircare, especially for Black men. The negative beliefs about my hair stemmed from a lack of understanding about how to properly care for it.

It was easy to hate my hair when I didn't have the resources to understand it and what it needed. For instance, I vividly recall how dry my hair would be because I didn't have access to products made for my hair type.

As I got older, I sought guidance from the men around me, experimenting with various brushes, creams, shampoos, and durags. With time (and several hairstyles), I discovered a sense of empowerment—each look representing a new facet of my identity. With confidence came affirmation from the community around me. I began to view my hair as something special, natural, and beautiful.

My hair was never difficult; it simply required specific maintenance techniques to keep it healthy. Today, I wear it with pride, though admittedly, there are moments when I have to remind myself to love it.

I often stress the importance of beauty as a form of self-expression, particularly for Black men. Our hair plays a pivotal role in this experience. Through the process of caring for my hair, I reconnect with what I love about it—and ultimately, about myself.

Written by Saleam Singleton