Wear Your Crowns with Pride
I was three years old when I received my first relaxer. At that time, it seemed like the best decision for my mother. Recently, we discussed why she made that choice when I was so young. As the only girl among four boys in my family, managing someone else's hair, especially a child's, was an entirely new challenge for her. She explained that my hair was thick, and I was tender-headed, making it unbearable for her to watch me scream in agony. Relaxing my hair made life easier for both of us at the time, but it inadvertently initiated a period of identity confusion during my youth.
I constantly questioned societal expectations and struggled to understand why I had to undergo rigorous processes to meet certain standards. My mother, an immigrant woman in a foreign country, was simply trying to efficiently navigate day-to-day life. Black hair education was not as widespread as it is today. Fortunately, I am now continuously growing and educating both my mother and myself on better ways to care for our hair, strengthening our bond more than ever.
In 5th grade, I asked my mom to no longer receive a relaxer. At that time, my older cousin, whom I have always admired dearly, had done her big chop and was rocking a pixie cut in her Senior photos. I thought she was so daring and inspiring; she told me she went natural and that I should, too. I had no clue what going natural meant, so I did what any young kid in the 2010s would do and went straight to YouTube, researching and binge-watching many videos of the natural hair journey. I was not as daring as my cousin to chop my hair off entirely! I was still finding myself and learning to be comfortable and confident in my skin, so slow transitioning was the best option. I wore a lot of protective styles and sew-ins and got trims regularly.
Mid-year into 7th grade, my relaxed ends were so brittle and needed to go, but I was in denial and was trying to hold onto my past self. I distinctly remember having to go to a birthday party, and I had just taken down my braids. I was excited to take my hair down. I was delusional and thought my hair was going to be giving 30-inch buss down energy. I have been natural going on two years, but I was left disappointed to see how short my hair was because of my lack of understanding of shrinkage at the time. Overwhelmed with emotions, I went crying to my mom. There was no time for her to braid my hair; my mom's quick thinking she had put one of her half wigs on me, and I went to the party TERRIFIED. People had only seen my natural hair straight, so to appear with this makeshift 3b afro wig, I knew someone would call me out. I received positive feedback from my friends which was shocking for me at the time.
It started a new journey to experiment more with my natural hair. It refined my meaning of natural hair. I wanted to be natural but did not realize what it truly entailed. If I truly wanted to love myself, I needed to learn how to embrace every part of me. This photo was from 8th grade. I was finally confident, showing my short, transitioning hair. I had a lot of struggles at the time. I believed I was not feminine with short hair, so I wore a lot of makeup to compensate. You must fake it until you make it at times, and as much as some boys mocked me, I walked proudly with my head held high!
I started doing my own hair in the 7th grade, the first protective style I “mastered” was twist. They were so chunky and had a terrible parting. It was a mess. Despite initial challenges, twists hold a special place in my heart, it was a start where I gained the freedom to express myself outwardly with my hair. There are so many variations and styles nowadays for twists alone. I remember rocking this vibrant purple twist in high school. That freedom of choice was so powerful for me. For a long time, I wanted to fit into the mold society had set for me, and now I decided to break free entirely and be unapologetically Blossom.
I was going through a hard time during the end of 2021; it was as if life was crashing on me. My hair became the target of my own destruction. I was not giving it the love and care it needed and deserved. So, I had two options: buzz it off or go ginger. THANKFULLY, I went ginger; it was a drastic change for me. Going ginger was not on my bingo card of 2021. The trend of young Black girls going ginger at the time helped me with my overall decision. But ultimately, I was looking for some escape from my reality and a way to regain control of my life. Did going ginger solve my problems? No, but it was an iconic time, and I would do it again but have a professional dye my hair. STRAY AWAY FROM BOX HAIR DYE!!! I had to do a big chop right after this brief era, which was necessary for my hair journey!
During the pandemic, a video of mine went viral on TikTok. I received so many comments regarding my hair. Who would’ve thought my crochet wig would cause such a stir up. Revealing that it was a crochet wig, I experienced overwhelming support and realized the power and iconic status of an afro. Growing up, I had mixed feelings about wearing an afro, often feeling like an object of curiosity. However, I've learned to embrace the uniqueness of my hair, recognizing it as a symbol of the complexity and beauty of being Black. So, to brothers and sisters, wear your crowns with PRIDE! We are too multifaceted to let anyone dim our lights!
-Blossom for Soft Rows