Growing Up with Curly Hair
I'm the youngest of six children, I have the curliest hair in my family and no one knew how to manage them.
When I was four, my mom couldn't figure it out and simply cut it all off. Traumatized, six-year-old me vowed never to let anyone touch my hair again. Lacking better options, my styling routine consisted of massive amounts of gel, brushing my curls down flat and putting it into a bun.
By age 11, I got a chemical relaxer to straighten my curls out, I was so happy. But after two years of scalp scabs and stringy, heat-damaged ends, I quit the chemicals and let my natural curls grow back.
The 8th-Grade Curl Disaster
In 8th grade, I decided to copy my older sisters and wear my natural curls to school but I forgot a crucial detail: their curls were soft and loose; mine were tight, dense, and full of volume.
As the morning went on at school, my gelled and sleek wet hair started expanding.
It got bigger. And bigger. And bigger.
By third period, I was the only girl in a predominantly white school walking around with an accidental, giant halo of curls. In science class, a classmate turned around and blurted out, "Hey! You look like Scary Spice!" The teacher laughed along, leaving me completely mortified.
The Metal Necklace Emergency
Unable to focus, I entered survival mode: get this hair into a bun right now.
Without a hair tie on hand, I frantically searched my backpack and found an old metal necklace. After 3rd period science class ended, I rushed to my 4th period math class and asked the teacher to go to the bathroom. With her permission I raced down the corridor and splashed water over my hair, and tried in vain to tie my hair up with a piece of metal jewelry.
The Turning Point
Back in class, my math teacher, Mrs. Cairns, saw me struggling doing my hair from the whiteboard. Taking multiple glances, she finally paused, looked directly at me and asked what I was doing.
The conversation going as follows:
Teacher: "What are you doing?"
Me: "My hair..."
Teacher: "Why?"
Me: "Because I don't like it."
Teacher: "Are you crazy? Your hair is beautiful!"
She then turned to the entire room and asked, "Isn't her hair beautiful?" Everyone nodded in agreement. She reminded me that my hair was beautiful and ordered me to leave it alone. After that interaction, I did not touch my hair for the remainder of the day.
Why This Moment Stood Out
I didn't walk out of school that day suddenly loving my curly hair. But my math teacher, Mrs. Cairns gave me two massive reality checks that day:
- She disrupted my habit of shrinking. She stopped the pattern of brushing my hair back into a bun that I had practice since childhood. Teaching me that it was okay to show my natural curly hair and that I didn't have to make myself small to be accepted.
- She proved my brain was lying to me. I thought everyone was judging me, but the harsh voice I was hearing was actually just my own internal insecurity projected onto others.
Forgetting a hair tie that morning felt like a nightmare at the time. In hindsight, it was the best thing that could have happened. It planted the seed for me to finally embrace my curls, and stop apologizing for taking up space. That seed ultimately lead me to create a way to help myself and others protect our natural hair through the afrona and prompted me to create my small business Woven Royal.
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