Since I cut my hair, a lot of people have told me that it wouldn’t suit them. The hair, not the cut. Those are the statements that have inspired me.
Growing up, as a black girl, you are led to believe that your hair is; unmanageable, hard, strange and many other things. If beauty was put on a scale, straight hair would get the highest marks and my hair would be clinging on to the end. Our hair represented black power, if you wore your hair as it was you were like Angela Davis or Assata Shakur. So in order to be less ‘radical,’ we relaxed our hair to make other people feel more comfortable.
Since when was beauty European? Did the European’s bring beauty with them as they scrambled for Africa and colonised the world?
Psalm 139:14 tells me that I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Am I making an inductive leap of logic by thinking that my kinks and coils are also fearfully and wonderfully made? Or did God just forget to add the relaxer to my hair when He made me?
On my search for beauty I realised that I was already beautiful. I don’t mean to sound conceited, I’m just giving credit to The One who made me.