On Hair & Healing

I was a little girl with a head full of dark brown, thick, coarse, highly textured hair.

Every two weeks, my cornrows were carefully redone with beads selected to color coordinate with my school uniform.

For Easter, there were tight curls from Marcel irons and pressing combs on the stove, curls that Nana promised would “fall” the next day – they didn’t.

Occasionally, I would be treated to the always odoriferous Vigarol liquid relaxers that were rinsed out hanging over the kitchen sink.

Like the rest of me, my hair, just as it grew out of my head, was cared for. Stocking caps were worn at night, scalps were greased, and manipulation was minimized.

As I moved into adolescence, the desire to experiment with my hair became very important. First, there was the Wave Nouveau that promised to be a “dry” version of a leisure curl (insert side eye). Not surprisingly, a drastic haircut was necessary post-Wave Nouveau because I refused to use the activator (y’all said this was supposed to be dry!). Regular relaxers followed and I enjoyed wraps, French rolls, finger waves, wet sets and more. My hair flourished in some seasons; however, it was, more often than not, a source of frustration.

In 2000, I decided that I’d had enough of my hair not performing the way I wanted given the hours and money invested at my local salon. I tendered my resignation to #teamrelaxer. I wasn’t sure if the relaxer was the problem but I figured its elimination was a good place to start.

Now, this was long before there were hundreds of products in the marketplace, thousands of YouTube influencers, or peers on the same journey. This was long before the widespread language of hair typing and proliferation of natural hair salons. Fortunately (?), I didn’t realize that this transition should be a big deal. I was blessed to have a dear friend show me how to care for and style my hair. My natural hair.

Most would describe what I did in 2000 as “going natural”. And I described that way too for a long time. But I think this phrase misses the mark.

Perhaps “going natural” more than 20 years ago was actually a “returning”. When I decided to stop getting relaxers, I was returning to a part of me that I had lost track of – a head full of beautiful, dark brown, thick, coarse, highly textured hair. My “non-relaxed hair” wasn’t really a new thing; I had been there before.

Returning. Becoming reacquainted with a part of me that would serve me better than my current state.

I’ve encountered the idea of “returning” a lot lately.

In my yoga practice, I return to my breath to optimize my connection with my body.

In meditation, I return to the present moment when my thoughts run rampant.

In my relationship with God, I return (over and over) to His priorities when my own plans sidetrack my alignment with His ways.

In the quiet moments afforded by this less busy season, I’ve started to return to the creativity that was characteristic of a much, much younger me.

Author and teacher Sharon Salzberg offers, “The healing is in the return, not in the never having wandered to begin with.” (Also see Parable of the Prodigal Son)

I’d say that’s a pretty compelling reason to return – to God, to myself, to my hair….

And maybe that’s the whole point.