Acceptance

n: the act of accepting something or someone

I have naturally curly hair. And it’s taken me a long, long time to accept that.

For starters, my hair is thick and has different levels and layers of curl. The top layer, the one that everyone sees, is very curly and can be very frizzy. The mid layer is a bit more wavy, though it’s not consistent. And the bottom layer is quite straight. To add insult to injury, there’s a thin streak of blonde hiding underneath that I’ve had since I was born.

I’m fairly certain that I inherited my natural curl from my maternal grandfather Hank. He had thick gray hair with defined wave. From early on, I remember people telling me how lucky I was. But I didn’t feel lucky. Until recently, I felt that my naturally curly hair was a curse I would never understand.

Me with my Grandpa Hank and my Grandma Edna, Christmas 1982

It took nearly 38 years, a varied group of hairstylists and seemingly endless amounts of product—gel, mousse, spray, leave-in conditioner, moisture mist—but I finally learned to accept and enjoy my hair!

Me, age 3

As a toddler, my curls were adorable, framing my chubby, round face with soft and frizz-free waves. As I grew, so did my hair and it reached my waist by the time I was three, though the weight began to pull out my curl. It was around that time, I was told, I no longer wanted to have my hair brushed. And it was then that my mom made a life-altering decision: she cut my hair.

And she didn’t cut it into a cute bob. No way, she chopped it.

For two years, I looked like a boy. By second grade, my mom opted for a bit more of a fashionable look on me and went with the trendy (at the time) Dorothy Hamill haircut, a glorified bowl cut named for the Olympic figure skater.

My hair had been chopped, badly, by the time I turned 4.

Over the next few years, my haircut evolved to become the same as my mom’s. Perhaps it was easier for the stylist, I’m not sure. But I adored my mom, even though our hair was different, and I was OK that we had the same hairstyle—even if everyone else knew it wasn't right for me.

I briefly tried to grow my hair between fourth and fifth grade, but I gave up. By this point, my weird short haircut had become part of my identity, so I cut it again, and then also got glasses. And that was my look until the end of high school, a hairstyle that was about 30 years too old for me.

Me, as sophomore in high school

The turning point came when I was 19. My cousin Tammy got engaged and she asked me to be a bridesmaid. She looked at me and said, in a loving and encouraging way, “What are we going to do with your hair?”

The wedding was set for the following year, so I decided to grow it out. I had always wanted an updo and here was my chance! There was a lot of awkward, in-between hair as it grew out, but I did it and it was worth it. I felt beautiful on the day of Tammy’s wedding.

I liked having long hair, but I still fought the curl each day. Sometimes I straightened it (before I had kids and I had loads of extra time), and I often just put it up in a ponytail. My mom used to get frustrated with me; she would say “Why did you grow your hair out if you never wear it down?”

As a bridesmaid in Tammy's wedding

When I met my husband, he also loved my hair down, so I tried to wear it that way. But it gets hot and the humidity makes it crazy. I wanted to put my hair up for our wedding, but he wanted it down. We compromised and I only did a half updo—thanks to a ton of hairspray.

I did have some good hair days over the years when the curl was “on point” or “on fleek,” as the kids say, but those days were few and far between. And I began thinking that there was a better look for me.

Over a period of several years, I saw a few different stylists and expressed my interest in cutting some length. But it didn’t happen; I think it was due to my apprehension of having short hair again and perhaps their inexperience in cutting curly hair.

A rare good hair day in the mid-2000s

But then I met Ayriel and she knew exactly what would work for me. She also knew about curly hair and how best to cut it and care for it. She knew what products would work and offered me tips to style it in slightly different ways. Most importantly, she was confident in her abilities and she made me feel confident that I was making the right choice for me.

So in February 2018, Ayriel gave me my most favorite haircut. And she made me love my naturally curly hair, completely and totally!

Now that it’s taken me a lifetime to fully embrace my hair, I’m embarking on a new journey of acceptance. Each day, it seems I notice another singular gray hair, which reminds me that I’m a mom of two who is almost 40.

Right now, I’m OK with the gray, as long as it comes in strand by strand and not in big patches or streaks. It reminds me that all of my life experiences have led me to this point in my life—and I’m pretty darn happy with where I’m at.

I'm finally loving my hair and that makes me happy!