Baller Alert Entertainment & Lifestyle I am about to share with you the deepest insecurity that I’ve struggled with since I was 9 years old. I have been procrastinating over writing this lofty post, only because it requires the willingness from me to go deep within myself, to parts I have tried to hide for ages. In my journey of healing though,I remain committed to authenticity, transparency, and courage, so here I am.
One of the many things being an American conditioned me to believe growing up, was that there is no value in the way I look, as a black woman. I grew up believing “lighter is righter”. I grew up conditioned to believe that in order to feel worthy of anything in life, particularly in reference to being loved, I had to follow certain European trends and blend in as closely as possible with the typical idea of ‘beauty’ in America.
I grew up as the only dark skinned person in my household. My mother, sister, brother and father are all light-skinned. Big deal? Nope. Not unless you are a developing 9 year old. Never would I have realized any significant difference in skin tone if it wasn’t for the unwelcoming negative comments, from kids & adults alike, who teased the younger me because I didn’t look like the rest of my family. And it goes beyond skin tone. I had true bold African features; my kinky hair, my wide hips, my chocolate complexion, my wide nose, they often went all but unnoticed in comparison to the more subtle features the rest of my family shared. I stuck out like a sore thumb and people never missed an opportunity to remind my 9 year old self of that fact.
This, of course, ingrained within me the belief of unworthiness if I couldn’t tone myself down for the sake of blending in with the rest of society’s expectations. So as a young girl who sees self-hatred within her family, social circles and media, what was my natural reaction? To blend in. Needless to say, like many other black women, I began perming my hair, wearing weaves, wearing layers of make-up to tone down my big nose and yes…. using store bought lightening creams to lighten up my skin complexion. But in this particular post, I’d like to discuss the significance in my hair journey as it relates to loving myself.
I’ve worn long 20 inch ‘vixen’ weaves since I was 17 years old. Ironically, I am already blessed with extremely long hair, yet I’ve never appreciated it. I hated my thick, kinky texture so much, I tried everyyything to permanently straighten out my kinks, determined to get the silky hair I saw in the hair magazines and commercials. I refused to accept my hair to the point that I straightened the life out of it, literally. Weaves were an answer to my prayers. The beauty gods heard my cries!! I became addicted to long Brazilian, Malaysian and Indian weaves, to the point that I felt unworthy walking out of my house without my weave in. I was finally able to look like those that were loved by the world for their beauty, and for the first time, I began to attract all the men I could dream of. I finally felt a sense of worthiness, I felt loved.
Needless to say, that was a false sense of security. Fast forward to today… I was having a conversation with a close friend about going natural. We both agreed that we were literally afraid to give up our vixen weaves, but what were we so afraid of? While I’m not so sure about her, I can admit that I was afraid of looking less than my best. I’ve always believed my vixen weaves made me look the most attractive and wearing my hair any other way would not be doing my looks enough justice. I was afraid of stepping out of that mold of European standards, so I held on to my weave a little while longer.
At some point in your journey of self-love you get to a point where it literally pains you to be anything but your authentic self. And that is where I am currently. I have fought long and hard, the simple decision to step out of the mold and embrace my bold African beauty, outside of European standards. A literal battle within myself.
Going natural, wearing braids and wearing my own hair always makes me feel more like myself and I’ve realized that’s exactly who I’ve been running from all these years — myself.
I say all this to say, I have finally made the decision to stop wearing vixen weaves! It may seem like a small gesture to most, but this is truly a HUGE step in my self-love journey, one that i never thought i’d be courageous enough to do. This is my big “F*CK YOU!” to American beauty standards, and the boxes it has tried to suffocate me in. I have chosen to embrace my authenticity, and I now view my unique beauty as a natural repellent…repelling all the immature, shallow men that are hell-bent on ‘bagging’ a vixen. I’m officially stepping away from the mess, which I realize will attract the men that are actually worthy of my attention. Best of all, I now see the beauty within myself; my kinky hair, my chocolate skin, they are truly beautiful to me, no matter what anyone else says. My braids make me feel like the Goddess I am. My big hair stands at attention as everyone else does when I walk into a room with grace & confidence. I am not made to look like everyone else… there is a purpose for the way that i look and I refuse to hide my blackness any longer. #LoveYours
