Curly

I have always had a love/hate relationship with my hair. When I was born, my parents were worried because I was bald until I was three. They had no idea where my hair was and why it wasn’t growing. The fact that I had no hair when I was first born is now the biggest joke among my family and friends because I now have (and have since I was three) the thickest head of curly crazy hair you can imagine.

I remember when I got my first haircut, I was so nervous because when the hair dresser cut my hair, it looked so different and short. I have come to learn that, when you go to cut curly hurly hair, not matter what the length it will always look shorter because it curls right back up to the top, creating an afro. After the cut, I remember constantly looking in the mirror, wondering where it all went. I never really felt any special connection toward my hair until that moment. This short new hairstyle wasn’t me, my curls were different and I felt different.

Flash forward nine years to my mega shopping spree for my fourteenth birthday. My family and I took a special trip to the Providence Place Mall for the occasion. The first thing I noticed in the kiosks as I walked down the aisles and aisles of stores were the hair straighteners. Of course I had seen hair straighteners and heard of them before but I never really thought about using them. The only time I had ever seen my hair straight previously was when I was eight and in my cousins wedding. I loved it but didn’t know there was a “do it yourself” remedy. My eyes perked up when all of the sales associates came running toward my mom and I with our frizzy curly hair, we were both sold. I was so excited to use it and change “my look”. It was the first time I realized that I had always associated beauty with straight hair.

After a fantastic day of shopping, a few of my friends called me and asked how my birthday was and when I told them I was going to start straightening my hair, I could hear the disappointment in their voices. It was as if the curls had defined my personality. I started thinking, I have always been described as the “girl with the curly hair” and the spunky personality to match, changing my hair would be like changing me. That scared me.

Flash forward (again), to today when I went for a hair consultation, the first step of getting the Keratin treatment. The keratin would not necessarily straighten my hair, but it would take out the frizz and condense the curl pattern, making it more manageable and easy to straighten with a flat iron. After a very informative consultation, I immediately booked the appointment and walked out with a smile on my face dreaming of a life free of terrible hair days and stress. I was so excited to finally get my hair under control but as I began thinking about this change, I was immediately brought back to that thought, I am the curly girl, that’s me.  I began to think that changing my hair would change me, after all my hair defined me. I was ready to cancel my appointment right then and there. How could I change the one thing that defined me, Dayna?!

When my mom came home, we discussed it. She coincidently just got home from the car dealer in order to make an arrangement to trade in her car. Although she knew this was something she wanted to do, after all, her car is falling apart; she was hesitant because she felt as though it defined her. So many memories came along with that Toyota Highlander. Both scared to give up normalcies in our life, it wasn’t until I got a text from my amazing friend, Val that I was reminded that I (we(you)) are so much more than hair or a car, or a pair of shoes. Although my hair is like my trademark it hardly defines me and all that I stand for. I feel like we all so caught up in a world where we are looking for something to roll us all into one, match one thing to our personalities and ourselves. Although this may be the norm, I don’t believe in it nor do I like it.  So I challenge you, not to fall into the trap that I did.  Let “you” shine through no matter what hairstyle or what outfit you wear; because I am willing to bet that the real you is brighter and bolder than anything “physical” you could define it with.