@luckiestdestiny
What a thoughtful post!
This response isn’t specific to what you wrote but more a response somewhat prompted by it.
While I definitely agree that ALL women reach a crossroads of cosmetic maintenance re-evaluation, I maintain that my experience is that Black women are MUCH more susceptible to letting that go first. Or letting hair be among the first time/energy downsizings.
Black women have such a higher standard for “well styled hair,” and our time/energy commitments to our appearance are double, triple+ what’s average for other women. Most of that is social conditioning, and generational dysfunction that goes so much deeper than most of us are willing to work through. It definitely is not something that’s all on us, and I blame our susceptibility to that on the clear agendas to defeminize unambiguous Black women, compounded by colorism, featurism, texturism, and respectability politics.
Add to that, the fact that women of every other race normalize “seamless” hair extensions, and the contrast becomes a lot blurrier.
Many non-Black older women who SEEM to have healthy long hair are actually rocking extensions and wigs, but they don’t look as obvious on them (unless they’re poorly installed or old), whereas truly “unclockable” wigs and weaves on Black women seems relegated to metros and social media/entertainment spheres. Seeing an unclockable wig on a Black woman in the grocery store or while standing in line at a neighborhood bank is
rare IME. But I consider at least PART of that is the disproportionate commonality of raggedy “real” hair— so much so that when a Black woman is rocking her real hair and it is particularly well-styled, most people assume it’s a wig anyway (backed up by my personal experiences of people assuming I had extensions or was wearing a wig anytime my hair wasn’t in a bun or shrunken WnG— and sometimes even then, plus the experiences of dozens of members here).
And the care of Black hair has yet to be normalized with any kind of commonality, not in any specific Black community.
While it’s common to see non-Black women, even with age, infirmity, or busy schedules rock long hair despite these things, it’s RARE to see any similar % of Black women doing the same, because 1) we legitimately invest so much more time, energy, and money into our haircare 2) we are quick to call our basic hair maintenance burdensome
Idk if “burden” is sometimes appropriate. But I’d wager it’s more constructive to have a routine that is as easy as possible— for Black women, that just so happens to mean cutting or wigs/weaves at a visibly higher rate than non-Black women. But at the end of the day, we all want Black women to win and to thrive, and if that means cutting hair for her, so be it.
There are a lot of colluding factors at work when considering how Black women’s attitudes generally change about hair as we age. Some of it is practical, like with medical issues, or a heavy-hearted time/energy reduction. But a lot of it is, I think, Black women evolving beyond the superficial spectacle of long hair. Most of the time when I encounter the CHOICE to go short in Black women, it’s kind of rebellious, and often is correlated to a feeling of freedom or security from feeling any kind of “bondage” to hair— especially dramatic for women who at any point in time felt like they were slaves to their hair. Short hair can be a LIBERATION for some women.
I prefer any of those highfalutin ideas to short hair from damage, neglect, or incompetence though— or self hate— all of which are just as liable to be reasons for Black women with short hair.
I honestly feel that Black women’s hair choices are never as superficial for the majority of non-Black women. So I definitely believe that the rarity of long hair for Black women is so much deeper than simple “choice.”