I now have the most peaceful relationship with my hair. It hasn’t always been that way but I learned to be comfortable with myself when I became comfortable with my hair.
I didn’t know what my real hair type was until I entered adult life, a period when I simply wanted to see what my real curls looked like. Seeing my hair in its natural state just showed me how obviously me it was, so obvious that I would never go back to straight hair.
My mother didn't support me in this hair acceptance journey. She is from Madagascar, has naturally dark curly hair but has been straightening and coloring it blond until that day. I believe there is a cultural implication here, a mindset that is deeply linked to Madagascar's colonial past. Our hair is the reminder of something that shouldn't be shown or talked about.
I was outside with my aunt recently when someone came to compliment me on my hair. I then turned around to face my aunty who made a point of staring at her feet when this happened. Having someone complementing me on a personal characteristic that she believes should be tamed made her feel incredibly uncomfortable.
My dad was Italian, Austrian and German and his family haven't been supportive either but it is of no importance to me. Some might think that it’s a shame that I am not trying to educate people in order to bring solutions, but I don't want to bother as most of them are too old and stubborn to change their mind. I am happy to discuss that with people who are open minded enough to try and understand this decision of mine.
I lost my dad when I was 15. This encouraged me to only pay attention to what matters in life. It's not easy, but focusing on the positive is what keeps me going. Being happy within myself is the most important to me, the rest simply isn’t.