I was always a bit confused with my hair growing up. Since I am mixed, mother is Caucasian and father is African American, I was told many different things about my hair. My mother never tried to straighten my thick big hair which consists of 3b/3c type curls, my sister Dannielle who was one year older had gorgeous 2a/2b curls. She would instead run my head under the tub faucet and put a nice glob of creamrinse as she called it (conditioner) and smothered it through then she would brush my hair and leave it in a ponytail. I realize although my mom probably should not have brushed but combed my hair with a wide tooth comb, she actually made her own leave in and helped moisture my hair so I am eternally grateful.
Of course at the beginning of the day my curls would be adorable and after a few hours they would be frizz central. This is when my older sister, Mary, from my father's side would come in. I never question what my sister Mary told me because she was 18 years older than me and as she use to tell me “That's a whole 'nother person”. Mary had been in the army since I had been born so when she came home on leave it was very exciting to spend time with her and my father's side of the family, which actually consisted of Mary's family. However, one major thing kept happening when I entered middle school and she came to pick up me and my sister. “Why does your hair look like this? You are not a little kid anymore that frizz crap was cute back in elementary school but your getting older.” I would reply that my sister's hair, Dannielle's, was done the same way and I would get the same speech she would give me all through high school. “You have black people hair Lyssa! You don't have Danni's hair you need a relaxer.” And of course, I know Mary meant well in her own way but my mother would not protest since she assumed Mary knew what was best for my mixed hair. I loved visiting my father's side of the family and Mary would take me to my Auntie's house and I would get a relaxer in my hair. I hated that part, my hair burned as though it was being heated up like an oven since I mistakenly washed my hair the night before. It took hours for my Auntie to tame and my hair reminded me of a toupee. It was long yes and wonderfully flat but the kind of flat that seemed to lie lifelessly and although it shined it gleamed as if it was beckoning for someone to save it from further abuse. My sister, who really did mean well, would say the same thing, “See how much better that looks, this is what you do with your type of hair.” she did her best to reassure me that this was the way my hair was suppose to be. This went on every now and then when Mary came home on leave which was a few times throughout the year. Luckily, by the end of high school, I was on my own for college after a year at a community college I was still trying to find my hair's identity. I would read books and search the web and finally I found it ,by pure google searching accident, it popped up www.naturallycurly.com The feeling I felt as I searched the site and read the forums I could only describe as bring pure and natural. Pure acceptance and natural hair, it was the most wonderful thing I had ever seen it had never occurred to me before being mixed that I could go natural! At that moment there was no more hair confusion I had found my hair and my identity, I was a curly girl! I have never looked back since that faithful day and I after having a child of my own I am blessed with the knowledge and understanding of what to do with my daughter's beautiful curls. I went through a lot of confusion and although my sister meant well I proudly inform her that I will be naturally the rest of my life because I am and always will be a curly girl.
My name is Alyssa, there not much about me except that I'm a curly girl!
Displaying 1-1 of 1 posts