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Why I Went Natural
From the humid and lovely city of Houston, Texas I am Aaronni. Growing up I begged my mother for a perm from the age of 6-9. She would constantly tell me “Aaronni your hair is beautiful, you don’t need a perm.” But as a girl who was the ONLY girl in school with out a perm, I refused to believe her. So at the age of 9 I got my first perm and I loved it…for a while.
Fast forward to March 2009.
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I guess my natural hair “journey” started long before I decided to go natural. Before I went natural, I never recall seeing a lot of women with natural hair besides those with locs. So I associated “natural hair” with locs, and locs just wasn’t something I was interested in for myself. Growing up I always wanted long hair, and I had finally gotten long hair, but it was still very boring. I hated going to salons because I hated sitting under a dryer for hours, and just sitting in a salon for hours made me crazy. I would style and relax my own hair at home, and only went to the salon every 3-6 months to get my ends trimmed. I had the same clique experience most of us had growing up, being told that kinky, thick, “nappy” hair was “bad” and wavy or straight hair was “good”. Not only was my hair “nappy”, but my hair is very, very thick. I would get my hair pressed until I was old enough to get a “kiddy perm” – either way my scalp was getting burned. I started developing seborrheic eczema on my scalp as a pre-teen, and began getting my hair pressed at the recommendation of my dermatologist, along with using cortisone ointments almost daily. One pool party sent me back home begging my mom to let me get a relaxer again. Since my eczema was under control, she said okay and I went back to relaxing my hair and applying the cortisone ointment from that point on. I tried the Toni Braxton cut in my junior year of high school (1995), and hated it, so it was my mission to just grow my hair as long as I could. Fast forward to adulthood….
In June 2008, my husband and I became regulars at local outdoor concert series that features Old School R&B, NeoSoul, Hip-Hop and Jazz artists, and drew a mostly Black audience. As I would sit in my lawn chair, just people-watching, I would notice women with natural hair in a variety of lengths, colors and styles. And I was in awe – just loving the fact that there were so many possibilities with natural hair. But me, I was stuck with my relaxed hair that quite honestly I had gotten bored with. So that sparked my interest and curiosity. I would spend the entire time pointing out hairstyles to my husband – “Do you like that? What about her hair? Do you think that would look cute on me?” He told me that he liked the natural styles, but that what men really find attractive about a woman is her confidence. As a man, he could care less what hairstyle I had, as long as it was neat, clean, and I felt good about it. That was just what I needed to really start looking into it.
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The decision to go natural was one decided long before it actually happened. As a kid, every six weeks I endured the painful ritual of relaxing my short brittle hair; all the perm in the world could not tame my mane. As soon as the slightest bit of new growth emerged from my scalp, my smooth wrap would turn into a fly away half-fro. I always preferred the cornrows my godmother seemed to sew into my hair. They too were painful but the result was always gorgeous. Sometimes long, sometimes a unique pattern; my extensions and cornrows defined me.
I can definitely relate to Uzuri’s story. As I child, when it came to choosing my style from the walls of the JC Penny salon… my hair just couldn’t duplicate the options provided. It lead to relaxers, Jheri curls, etc. Read more about what pushed Uzuri to the natural side…
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Bad Hair
For a long time, I knew going natural was the right thing to do, but I’d been taught that my hair texture was “bad” and given every reason to think that my hair being “nappy” was the worst thing it could be. Because of this thinking that was forced on me as a child, I went from hair that hung to my middle back when it was pressed out, to about 11 inches of confused mess.
I went through every hair chemical known to man from the age of 9 to 16.
Guest Blogger: Tiffany
Tiffany left the comforts of Linden, NJ in order to embark on a new adventure in Philadelphia, PA. After 5 years and becoming a fine connoisseur of ramen noodles, she graduated within the top percentile of her class and received her BArch. from Temple University. Upon graduation, she started working at a nationally recognized architecture firm and began her quest to save the world – one building at a time. In the spring of 2009, Tiffany entered amongst the elite as a registered architect; and has been committed to advancing the field through various diversity initiatives such as bringing awareness to elementary school students and mentoring college bound young adults. Tiffany does not like chocolate – nor does she care for pastel colors. She enjoys long walks on the beach and enhancing the beauty and spirit of her old Victorian-styled home with her bare hands. When she is not tending to her afro, she is cuddled up with a good inspirational book, listening to loud rock music or encouraging her musician husband to never lose faith and continue on his quest to become a rock star.
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So.
I was one of those people that were born with a FULL head of hair… It seems like from the very beginning that I was destined to have a life full of hair stories…I am finally beginning to realize that my hair is actually a vehicle for my strength and wisdom today.
My journey begins with the legendary straighten comb and tiny braids and cornrows with beads on the ends… These were my mother’s saving graces…
They seemed to be the only thing to make my hair manageable – or maintained and presentable for a period of time…
BUT… not only did I have a full head of hair – I was tender headed…
Sadness.
Pain.
Tears.
I am sure that this was not a place that any mother would want to see their daughter. It was horrible.
No matter what she did – I was either:
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