“White Girl Hair” And How I Learned That Different Is Beautiful

For most of my life, there was nothing I wanted more than white girl hair.
You know, like Becky With The Good Hair.

I used to sit in the back of my fifth grade classroom and watch the three Ashleys (It was the 90’s, after all), toss their hair back and forth on a daily basis, each with a scrunchy casually wrapped around their wrists.
And for me, a black girl who always donned braids or a ponytail that stuck straight up in the air, it was fascinating.

I grew up in mostly white environments, so I was always the one in the room who was “different.”
And my hair was a big part of that. Everyone seemed more curious about it than impressed.
The boys I liked didn’t have crushes on girls who looked like me. I attributed that to my hair.
I couldn’t flip it over my shoulder, or run my fingers through it.
Heck, I could hardly run a comb through it. It was different, but it wasn’t beautiful.

Lies Hollywood Told Me

As I got older, I noticed that the girls in the Pantene Pro-V commercials didn’t have hair like mine.
The chicks in TLC and Destiny’s Child didn’t seem to have hair like mine.
Even my black Barbie dolls didn’t actually have hair like mine.
And they were the creme-de-la-creme. These were society’s “most beautiful” black females.

Somehow each of them had miraculously been given a lush, full head of white girl hair.
It whipped around in the wind. It grew down to their behinds. It was so unfair!
(This was before I was introduced to the world of wigs and hair weaves.)

So in those developmental years, despite the encouragement I received at home, I grew up with an understanding that there wasn’t anything particularly beautiful or attractive about the hair I had. And almost unknowingly, I think many little black girls in America grow up believing the same thing.

Hollywood, television, magazines, books… they all tell us that white or European female features are the most beautiful features. And so we spend hours in the hair salon, we buy skin lightening creams, we do everything can to fit that mold as best as we can, so that we can be considered beautiful too.

It’s Time For A Change

Thankfully near the end of high school, I realized entirely by accident that my hair had a natural curl that was kind of amazing. I could dunk my head in the sink and then watch my fro grow like a Chia pet throughout the day, and people thought it was awesome. I thought it was awesome. I turned to chicks like Scary Spice, Lauryn Hill, and Erykah Badu for style inspiration. And over time, I found my own thing.

I learned how to let my “crown of glory” shine.

Since then I’ve definitely gone through various phases of hair shame and pride.
I’ve loved my fro, I’ve hated my fro. I’ve relaxed my hair religiously. I’ve gone to salons, I’ve done weaves and I may be considering trying out a wig… but I always come back.

I’m still coming to terms with myself. I don’t always feel beautiful in my natural hair.
But today I can honestly say that I am thankful for the hair I have.

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When we have a daughter, I want her to know that she is beautiful.
I want to remind her daily that her beauty is different than anyone else’s.
And that’s not a bad thing, it’s the best thing.

And you, no matter who you are, where you from or what you look like…
You’re beautiful too.
God didn’t make a mistake when he put all of your parts together.
And that includes what grows (or doesn’t grow) out top of your head.

What about you? Are there parts of yourself you’ve had trouble accepting? How did you overcome those challenges and insecurities?

Tell me in the comments!