I Am Not My Hair

Black women and hair. It's so fascinating that Chris Rock made a movie about it. Black women wear their hair in a myriad of ways; dreadlocks, braids, weaves, wigs, relaxed, natural. Really, more ways than I care to sit here and list. I've worn my own hair in it's natural state (twice) – and I love it the way it was then and I love the way it is now (actually, it's in that stupid in-between length stage that's giving me rage – but, you get my point?).

But here's the thing that makes me irate. Wearing my hair natural doesn't mean anything except I'm wearing my hair as it grows out of my head. It doesn't make me more conscious, more down to earth or more…Black. Me choosing to relax my hair is not a rejection of my culture or a sign that I don't know what a relaxer actually does. I do and I do it because I can, because it's what I choose to do. For me.

The notion that any one choice is better or worse makes me so angry because it's just another way for women, and in this case Black women to divide themselves – it's weak and it's sad. Women need to learn to support other women in the choices that they make. What's good for you, might not be good for the next person and you know what? That's okay. You have an afro? Good for you. She wears a wig? Good for her. It doesn't mean anything. It's just hair.