In today’s society, Black hair has become synonymous to the word “damage”. I, as a black woman, can attest to this because I’ve experienced it, as did so many other sisters. Before I went natural, my hair was relaxed since the age of 5. Every month, I would burn my skin and scalp, leaving me with bald spots at the nape of my neck, for head, and the crown of my head. My junior year of high school, my hair could not sustain its self any longer and it began to fall out. It was getting shorter and shorter. When I got to college, my short hair cut inspired by Rihanna began to look like a birds nest due to the over processing and my beautiful new growth was hiding underneath it.

In today’s society, Black hair has become synonymous to the word “damage”. I, as a black woman, can attest to this because I’ve experienced it, as did so many other sisters.

Before I went natural, my hair was relaxed since the age of 5. Every month, I would burn my skin and scalp, leaving me with bald spots at the nape of my neck, for head, and the crown of my head.

My hair could not sustain its self any longer and it began to fall out.

Then  I cut off all my hair on my own, with a pair of scissors, and for the first time in 13 years, I felt my real hair.

Going natural is not just for people with “good hair” or “curly hair”. It is for anyone ready to start over and break free from their own fears. *the pictures represent my journey from damaging my hair to accepting my new healthy hair. 

In retrospect, I damaged my hair to keep up with an ideal that was costing me money, and my well being; but I didn’t see it that way at the time. I thought I was making myself beautiful, when in reality, I was slowly stripping my beauty, preparing myself to be permanently damaged by the age of 40. I dealt with the breakage, and the dryness with what I like to call “cover-ups”. I used things such as oils and moisturizers that helped the problem, but it did not cure my damage. It did not stop the hair shedding in the sink or in my brush. I wore ponytails and weaves to hide the problem, but it was only making it worse. By second semester of my freshman year of college, I decided that I quit. I was going to break the addictive cycle of relaxers and damaging hairstyles.

I was done with flat irons, hair sprays, and chemicals. I cut off all my hair on my own, with a pair of scissors, and for the first time in 13 years, I felt my real hair. This experience taught me to evaluate my actions and to think about the cost of what I do for beauty. I am not against creativity and freedom to wear your hair in the style that you desire, but it is important to let your hair heal and be in its natural state every once in a while. I want black women to know that they shouldn’t be afraid of what the world thinks of their natural hair, and they shouldn’t be afraid of themselves.