spinspinshuga
New Member
I apologize; this is VERY LONG. But I was reading the thread about natural heads giving dirty looks to relaxed heads and vice versa. Some people were saying relaxed hair is a product of denying an aspect of blackness and is indicative of shame...so I wanted to tell my story, and explain why I am relaxed.
My mother wore her hair natural for most of her life. She has beautiful 4-type hair, and could get away with any style, wearing her hair short, growing it to a big afro, braiding it, however she wanted. She knew how to do her hair quite well, and apparently didn't think it that it was difficult to do, having done her own and her sister's hair throughout her life.
Enter my sister, then me 2.5 years later. Suddenly, my mother had these two little "mixed" babies that, while possessing what society inaccurately considers "good hair," she didn't know how to manage. My sister's blonde, 3c/4a strands were coarse, thick, grew like a weed, and were difficult to comb through...particularly because my sister is tender headed and a little histrionic. The daily combing and braiding process was literally filled with screams and tears. It left my mother very, very tired.
My hair, on the other hand, was different. My fine, black strands were smooth and wouldn't hold a style. When combed it was puffy, but was flat and wouldn't become an afro. My mother honestly didn't know what on earth to do with either of us, having never dealt with anything but type 4 hair. So she combed, brushed, and braided our hair EVERY DAY, washed it twice weekly in the sink, and went on with her life.
Then high school came around for my sister, and because of her schedule, she had to start doing her hair herself. She said it was impossible, that she couldn't stand it, and that she wanted a relaxer. While the argument could be presented that if it weren't for white standards of beauty, my sister could have just worn it however it worked for her, but since braids were all we knew, all she understood was that she couldn't comb and braid her own hair, and she was frustrated. My mother didn't want her to, but relented eventually and agreed to put the chemicals in my sister's head.
When I was younger, I wanted to do EVERYTHING my sister did. She always had gotten more attention than me, and I thought if I did what she did, I could get that same attention...so I wanted a relaxer too. This wasn't about denying an aspect of my blackness; I wanted glasses when my sister got them, braces when she did, everything. This was just another step in the process of wanting to be my sister. My mother refused, but as a typical child, I said if she wouldn't do it, I would get it done somewhere else. She said to think about it for a while, and if by the time my sophomore year came I still wanted to get it done, I could.
I did. Out of support for me, my mother relaxed her own hair, and mine. Mine was only "texlaxed"; my hair still remained curly. At first, I enjoyed it; since I was doing my own hair at this point, it WAS easier to style...although my hair was never unmanageable or difficult to do to begin with. But then I found I didn't like it. My hair was easier to style, but more difficult to keep healthy. Because I was unfamiliar with and ignorant about relaxers, I didn't realize that once or twice a year, my mother would have to put that smelly crap in my hair AGAIN. I didn't understand the permanence, and I honestly missed my slightly frizzier hair. My mother didn't know about transitioning, and stylists I asked either didn't know or just wanted me to cut off all my hair. It wasn't until I joined LHCF that I realized one could truly transition.
I honestly don't know for sure what my natural hair texture is (although from NG I think it's 3b,) NOT because my mother got lazy slapped a relaxer in it when I was young, but because it was always combed and braided; my mother didn't know about wash-and-gos, braidouts, any of that (It wasn't until COLLEGE that I discovered braidouts, just by experimenting; until then, I still kept my hair in braids, despite the relaxer.) The only time I saw my hair in it's natural state without the braids was during a rollerset when I was thirteen or fourteen. My huge, rollerset curls fell hiplegnth, but having sat under the dryer for about four hours, I knew it wasn't a style I could do all the time. My mother didn't convince me to relax out of a desire for conformity, but was DEVASTATED when my sister and I relaxed. I kept relaxing my hair NOT because I'm denying an aspect of my blackness, but because I never knew about transitioning, and because I'm honestly not willing to give up my hair, which is still much, much shorter than it used to be. I still wear my hair curly, and my mom still tears up a little when I'm between relaxers and my natural growth shows through.
I understand this story is unique in some ways. I liked and miss my natural growth; I'm transitioning, and only plan to stop transitioning if I lose my length. Not everyone relaxes to fit in with their siblings or for other silly reasons. But not all of us are consciously or subconsciously trying to conform to white standards of beauty. I could relax my hair bone straight today if I wanted, but I still have dark skin, brown eyes, lips and a nose that no white person ever would have, and that I wouldn't trade for the world. Not only this, but I consider relaxing a part of the black beauty community, whether good or bad. Relaxing, while unhealthy and damaging, is just as black as naturally kinky curls.
I love healthy hair, natural or relaxed, and I don't consider one better than the other. I just wanted to provide an example of a family that didn't relax out of shame. I'm sure there are others out there like me.
Sorry this is so long!
My mother wore her hair natural for most of her life. She has beautiful 4-type hair, and could get away with any style, wearing her hair short, growing it to a big afro, braiding it, however she wanted. She knew how to do her hair quite well, and apparently didn't think it that it was difficult to do, having done her own and her sister's hair throughout her life.
Enter my sister, then me 2.5 years later. Suddenly, my mother had these two little "mixed" babies that, while possessing what society inaccurately considers "good hair," she didn't know how to manage. My sister's blonde, 3c/4a strands were coarse, thick, grew like a weed, and were difficult to comb through...particularly because my sister is tender headed and a little histrionic. The daily combing and braiding process was literally filled with screams and tears. It left my mother very, very tired.
My hair, on the other hand, was different. My fine, black strands were smooth and wouldn't hold a style. When combed it was puffy, but was flat and wouldn't become an afro. My mother honestly didn't know what on earth to do with either of us, having never dealt with anything but type 4 hair. So she combed, brushed, and braided our hair EVERY DAY, washed it twice weekly in the sink, and went on with her life.
Then high school came around for my sister, and because of her schedule, she had to start doing her hair herself. She said it was impossible, that she couldn't stand it, and that she wanted a relaxer. While the argument could be presented that if it weren't for white standards of beauty, my sister could have just worn it however it worked for her, but since braids were all we knew, all she understood was that she couldn't comb and braid her own hair, and she was frustrated. My mother didn't want her to, but relented eventually and agreed to put the chemicals in my sister's head.
When I was younger, I wanted to do EVERYTHING my sister did. She always had gotten more attention than me, and I thought if I did what she did, I could get that same attention...so I wanted a relaxer too. This wasn't about denying an aspect of my blackness; I wanted glasses when my sister got them, braces when she did, everything. This was just another step in the process of wanting to be my sister. My mother refused, but as a typical child, I said if she wouldn't do it, I would get it done somewhere else. She said to think about it for a while, and if by the time my sophomore year came I still wanted to get it done, I could.
I did. Out of support for me, my mother relaxed her own hair, and mine. Mine was only "texlaxed"; my hair still remained curly. At first, I enjoyed it; since I was doing my own hair at this point, it WAS easier to style...although my hair was never unmanageable or difficult to do to begin with. But then I found I didn't like it. My hair was easier to style, but more difficult to keep healthy. Because I was unfamiliar with and ignorant about relaxers, I didn't realize that once or twice a year, my mother would have to put that smelly crap in my hair AGAIN. I didn't understand the permanence, and I honestly missed my slightly frizzier hair. My mother didn't know about transitioning, and stylists I asked either didn't know or just wanted me to cut off all my hair. It wasn't until I joined LHCF that I realized one could truly transition.
I honestly don't know for sure what my natural hair texture is (although from NG I think it's 3b,) NOT because my mother got lazy slapped a relaxer in it when I was young, but because it was always combed and braided; my mother didn't know about wash-and-gos, braidouts, any of that (It wasn't until COLLEGE that I discovered braidouts, just by experimenting; until then, I still kept my hair in braids, despite the relaxer.) The only time I saw my hair in it's natural state without the braids was during a rollerset when I was thirteen or fourteen. My huge, rollerset curls fell hiplegnth, but having sat under the dryer for about four hours, I knew it wasn't a style I could do all the time. My mother didn't convince me to relax out of a desire for conformity, but was DEVASTATED when my sister and I relaxed. I kept relaxing my hair NOT because I'm denying an aspect of my blackness, but because I never knew about transitioning, and because I'm honestly not willing to give up my hair, which is still much, much shorter than it used to be. I still wear my hair curly, and my mom still tears up a little when I'm between relaxers and my natural growth shows through.
I understand this story is unique in some ways. I liked and miss my natural growth; I'm transitioning, and only plan to stop transitioning if I lose my length. Not everyone relaxes to fit in with their siblings or for other silly reasons. But not all of us are consciously or subconsciously trying to conform to white standards of beauty. I could relax my hair bone straight today if I wanted, but I still have dark skin, brown eyes, lips and a nose that no white person ever would have, and that I wouldn't trade for the world. Not only this, but I consider relaxing a part of the black beauty community, whether good or bad. Relaxing, while unhealthy and damaging, is just as black as naturally kinky curls.
I love healthy hair, natural or relaxed, and I don't consider one better than the other. I just wanted to provide an example of a family that didn't relax out of shame. I'm sure there are others out there like me.
Sorry this is so long!