Pop #3: From Fade to Curl

I go through my natural hair journey, and break down what it's meant to me physically and spiritually

Sep 15, 2020

One of the brightest parts of the past year has been my hair journey, which up until now has been pretty, well, short. In the twenty-five years of my life, it’s only been approximately twelve months that I’ve let my hair grow and have cared for it this way. That’s not to say it hasn’t been long before (as old pictures of me show, I had gorgeous long hair as a toddler). But for almost all of my youth and into my young adulthood, I had the same haircut. 1 ½ and a skin fade: sleek and easy. No extra care besides brushing it as it grew, and every three weeks or so I would buzz it all off anyway, leading me to plan my cuts around big events (auditions, family parties, shows, etc.) I loved and looked forward to my haircuts (not the barbershop, per say, but diving into the complexities and layers of psychological warfare in the barbershop will have to be in another pop). But to sum it up, my relationship with my hair wasn’t really anything at all, because it was never long enough to actually grow and curl. Always short, I never really knew what it could do, what it loves, what it hates, how it reacts, etc. It was never there.

So last Fall, I felt the urge to “shake it up” and try something new with my hair for the first time in, well, ever. I was in a show where I wore a wig, so for one of the first times in my professional career, my hair could be whatever it wanted, as it wasn’t attached to the character in any way. It was a decision born not only out of boredom, but out of practicality and convenience as well. Finding a good barbershop that knows how to cut Black hair (many will say they can, and will disappoint you every time) while going to a different city every week is a challenge. Like anything else in life, you like what you like. I have been going to the same barber for about twenty years now, and still have a hard time adjusting and finding new barbershops when jobs bring me to new cities. As I said, I initially thought boredom led me to finally grow my hair out, but with time away from that initial decision I now know it was a much bigger part of a spiritual journey for me as well. And so, frustrated with a recent haircut and bored with the same old fade, I decided to let it grow, and see what curl pattern my hair had, if it had any sort of curl at all.

Luckily, I had my whole tribe of friends to lean on as I ventured into the unknown, but as you know if you’ve gone on the natural hair journey, there’s only so much education that advice will give you. Your hair is it’s own sprawling, living, breathing, changing thing. My best friend Amber has truly been there since day one, since when I first really decided to grow it out in the first place, and she lovingly shared with me what she still tells me on our Facetime calls: “Your hair is like a plant. It needs water and lots and lots of love. It’ll tell you what it likes and what it does not, and it’ll tell you quickly.”

Thus ensued the long and seemingly never-ending trial and error period (a period I still feel like I’m in as my hair continues to grow and change). Before you ask, no, I will not disclose the amount of money I’ve spent on hair products in the last year (not just because it would lead to embarrassment and a hint of shame, but because I genuinely don't know the exact number and allow myself to live in ignorant bliss). Let’s just say I’ve spent enough to truly have a firm grasp on what works for my hair type and what doesn't.

“Your hair is like a plant. It needs water and lots and lots of love. It’ll tell you what it likes and what it does not, and it’ll tell you quickly.”

Then, of course, like everything this year, when COVID stuck and forced us all inside, I suddenly had even more time on my hands. After months of dabbling in new gels, creams and oils, of frustrating “bad hair days” (a phrase that virtually meant nothing to me until this year), I suddenly had even more time to nourish this hair of mine, and also virtually no one to impress it with. Suddenly, the pressure was off in the best way. I was free to try my products as I pleased and really take the time to get to know my hair even better. Without having to rush off anywhere, I could actually learn the exact amount of time my hair needs for each step of my process (fifteen minutes to pre-poo/shampoo, an hour/two hours to deep condition, twenty minutes to rinse out the conditioner and apply leave-in, five to put gel, and so on and so forth). Suddenly, I could actually deep condition for hours without having anywhere to rush off to, taking the hurry out of my process and just leaving the fun parts of seeing what my hair can do when it’s taken care of and loved.

This seems to be the common thread this year, in this odd and peculiar time in my life. Focusing on me, and on things I have brushed aside or refused to look at for years, simply out of comfortability and normalcy, is giving me a fuller understanding of myself and who I am. Through getting to know, nourish and love my hair, I’m doing the same for my spirit, in a year that feels like the setbacks have piled on top of each other one by one. These curls, each delicately placed on this head of mine, are all love and are all me. They’re at first glance, a product of my own hard work and wonderful texture, but it’s much more than that. They’re also a reflection of my heritage, of all of the ancestors that came before me that lead to every cell in my body, every curl in my hair and the rich color of my skin.

These curls, each delicately placed on this head of mine, are all love and are all me.

I’d like to reiterate, there is nothing wrong with a frech cut. I’m sure depending on a job or how I feel, I’ll go through phases of wanting to start fresh and shave it all off again. But for right now, I’m discovering too much about myself, and am enjoying the growth too much to let these curls go. Not only does the hair lift me up, but the delicate and intricate time taken to care for it has become some of my favorite parts of the week. Where I play my favorite music, separate and give each and every curl some love and nourishment, and amidst the never-ending changes in the outside world, take a moment and simply focus on me (there it is again). In my hair time, for hours in my bathroom, I am strand by strand, finding my way back to myself.

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