Some moments stick with you. They cling fast to brain matter long after you forget the who, the when or the why.
Sometimes people say things and while not always profoundly sincere or profoundly hurtful, you can’t seem to shake their words.
I’m reminded of this on a Friday afternoon while I sit in a hairdresser’s hair.
After giving me the wash of a lifetime, my long-grown locks have been nonchalantly snipped in the name of splitting with split ends.
I’m watching an attractive woman force my curls into submission by way of a brush and a hairdryer. We don’t speak but she catches my eye every now and then as I intently stare at what she’s doing.
I stare not because I’ve never seen hair being blown out before but because it reminds me of something I’ve never been able to forget.
I’m reminded of a moment, years ago, on a Saturday morning, when a man who’s name I have either forgotten or suppressed takes one look at my thrown-into-a-messy bun hair and announces, quite matter-of-factly, that no woman of his will ever walk around like I was; not even when she’s at home doing laundry, like I was.
I of course quipped back that I was glad that I didn’t have ambitions to ever be anything of his, but even now, years later, I’m stunned at what a big deal your hair can be to people who don’t even know you.The man was an acquaintance of my brother’s and I’m sure by now he must be married to a woman whose hair is always freshly done and laid for the gods but his careless comment still sticks with me to this day.
Perhaps it would have less staying power if I hadn’t been hearing similar statements all my life.
“You’d look so pretty if you blowed your hair out.”
“Your hair looks amazing straight.”
“Why do you always tie your hair up?”
“Don’t cut your hair, it’s so beautiful when it’s long!”
I’m not beyond wondering whether I’m only stunning when my hair is straight and sweeping.
It’s something I bring up now because, for years, I believed that, unless my curls were tamed, I just wasn’t pretty enough.
I’ve heard it enough times for it to sink in.
My hair, in its natural state, isn’t ‘good enough’.
Some say the ‘wet curly’ look is lazy while others are convinced that the only time it’s acceptable is on the beach, and I’ve been left wondering what’s so inferior about my hair that makes me have to take lengthy measures involving rollers, hairdryers and straighteners before it’s considered beautiful.
And I’m sure it sounds silly. I have great hair. Why would I ever second-guess that?
But to many people, especially in the coloured community, beauty ideals often include straightened hair.
Like the only way we’re beautiful is if we look a little more white.
And so for the past few years, I’ve been taking a stand.
I rock my curls often, not only because they make me feel absolutely gorgeous, but also because of how it makes some people react.
And every time someone asks me why I don’t straighten my hair more often, I’m never shy to ask what’s wrong with whichever way I’ve chosen to wear it that moment.
I’ve always said that it’s “just hair”.
But maybe it isn’t.
One that says, simply: F*ck your opinion.
– cindy@namibian.com.na; @SugaryOblivion on Twitter, Instagram and Facebook
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