A Peek Into the Lives of Curly-Haired Women

You’re back home from work and it’s evening again. You made it through another day and thankfully, your emotions are intact.

You release your thick luscious hair from the band that held it all together, you remove the hair clips and toss them away, then lay down for a while to think of all the comments you received again.

You can’t seem to understand why your boss and coworkers have a problem with the hair you were born with, but you’re used to it so it doesn’t matter anymore.

You pull off your clothes, braid or twist your hair into four parts, put on a shower cap while knowing you can’t possibly wash your hair every single day.

While you’re in the shower, your mind strays to people who think curly hair is dirty and messy, and the bad comments replay in your head so you shake your head to delete them. You wonder if it’s okay to get your hair straightened for a while, not because you want it, but because you feel like it’ll give you some peace of mind for a while.

It’s another peaceful morning and you're on your way to work. You can feel the stares as you walk into the building, you say hi to your coworkers and they’re pleased with how you look. Different. Feminine. Presentable. They’re more than pleased to see your hair finally straightened and laid down to fit society’s standards.

Yes, you’re happy to be relaxed without thinking about the way your hair looks — that’s what you think at first. But there comes the comments, this time they’re compliments and you’re ready to maybe hear “you’re beautiful” or “you look stunning today” but that’s not the case.

Your closest coworker who also happens to be white with blonde straight hair tied in a bun goes, “Oh wow, honey, your hair looks super laid today, it’s pretty.”

You reply with a thank you, a firm smile on your face. Now you feel a bit insecure. Is it my straightened hair that’s pretty or my face? You rather not overthink it so you get back to work. But the “compliments” can’t seem to stop coming.

“Woah! You look so good”

“Is that a weave?”

“Never knew your hair could be this smooth”

“Your hair looks so breathtaking today”

“Oh, nice to see you without your afro today, did you straighten it?”

“How is your hair so long, though you had ‘bad’ shrinkage?”

“I think you should straighten your hair every day, you look so much better like this”

“Wow, nice seeing you with ‘good’ hair today”

“Never knew you could look this pretty, yeah it’s the hair, you should probably think about investing in straighteners”

Well, you’re sorry but heat and your curly hair don’t exactly go together and your shrinkage is good, not bad, but you can’t tell them that so you just keep saying thank you with that same smile. What a tough day you didn’t sign up for.

It’s finally a Saturday, free from all the stress and drama, Saturdays are the days you could finally be yourself. Pajamas and bonnets are what your Saturdays are like, at last, you can look as “unpresentable” as you wish.

On the midday of Saturdays, your wash day begins. You remember you had used up your last drop of conditioner the last time you used it, now you have to drive to your local beauty supply store to get that one conditioner — if not, your 4-hour wash day routine, or rather, wash day ritual is incomplete.

Apparently, you already detangled, combed, prepped, and bundled your hair into four parts to get on with the process. You put on a bonnet in a rush and head out.

You hurriedly walk into the beauty supply store to do your business, however, something feels off.

The stares.

You can read the stares — they say you look ghetto, unpresentable, and homeless. You’ve seen this on social media too many times, where people judge the idea of wearing bonnets in public places. You forgot that for a minute, but it’s too late, you can’t pull the bonnet off now, you rather deal with the judgmental stares than let the harsh weather break your hair, so you just get your conditioner and leave.

Your wash day routine is a ton of work. A routine that consumes time and energy and requires at least 10 steps. People ask if you work out because of how flexed your arms look, no it’s just the result of your wash day.

From pre-pooing to checking the temperature of the water to drying your curls, it takes so much devotion and loyalty. That’s why you call your hair your crown, and you can’t trust anyone but yourself with it. Sometimes, it respects you, most times, it doesn’t.

Protective styling is another issue on its own, It is for a fact a must-do for the safety of your hair. You part your hair into ten parts and braid your hair into cornrows.

Of course, you can’t wear cornrows to work or anywhere that isn’t home because people think it looks too unprofessional and ghetto so you just put a wig on instead.

Wigs, they look good on you, professional and everything society ever wanted; it’s even easier to handle so you’re comfortable. Still, people have prejudices against you as a black curly-haired woman wearing wigs.

They say you're ashamed of your natural hair, they say you’re white-passing or say that you probably can’t handle your hair. This is why you rather wear box braids, but box braids cost a ton($35-$400) considering how you’re only wearing them for a month or two. You get them anyway.

Everyone thinks your box braids are pretty until your hair starts to grow out of the braids. Now it looks messy, ghetto, and unprofessional again.

It’s that time of the year, you think it might be better to get a haircut. Maybe if you go bald, you won’t have to worry about hair anymore. You even thought it’ll look good if you dye it.

Then you remember a friend who supposedly did the same thing to her hair. Everyone but curly-haired girls thought she looked manly and again, unprofessional because of the dye.

What to do?

Guess it’s time to just do you and stop caring about what others think of your beautiful and gifted crown of loose and tight curly strands of hair.