Opinion Writing: Personal Column
Embracing My Identity: My Journey to Self-Acceptance
“Damn, this baby’s hair is nappy” Nappy. That's how my mom would describe my hair as she sat me down for my first relaxer before I was a year old. The offensive term, originally used to describe the naturally kinky and coily hair of African slaves in the 17th century, is how I viewed my hair for years.
Growing up, especially as a young black girl in the South, I couldn't escape the constant commentary on my appearance. Whether it was the texture of my hair, the shade of my skin, or the shape of my features, it seemed like everyone had an opinion – and none of them were positive.
My family, bless their hearts, inadvertently added to what many would call my "self-hatred." My mother, sister, and even my grandparents, all unintentionally reinforced the idea that there was something inherently wrong with the way I looked.
“I don’t want to get darker” my older sister, Victoria, would whine while we sat outside at the beach during the summer months
“Girl, let's do something with this head” is what my mom would sigh before grabbing her rat tail comb and a paddle brush and ushering me to the bathroom to tame my hair.
“Your sister has such good hair, you must've gotten that from your daddy” my grandma would joke, even though I would never laugh.
Their own biases and struggles with identity seeped into the way they interacted with me, leaving deep scars that took years to heal.
But it wasn't just my family. Society and its unattainable standards of beauty, what is “acceptable”, and the endless pressure to conform only increased my insecurities. Everywhere I looked, I was bombarded with images that didn’t look like me, messages that told me I didn't measure up and that I needed to change to fit in.
So I did.
I internalized these messages, convincing myself that I wasn't enough – that my hair was too "nappy," my skin too dark, and my features too different. I spent hours from the age of 13 straightening my hair, getting relaxers if even the slightest bit of my roots would show, figuring out how much I would need to save to fix my wide nose, and Googling ways to lighten my deep brown skin.
I spent years trying to hide or change the things that made me unique, ashamed of the very qualities that should have been sources of pride. But then, everything changed.
I was going to be a mom.
The news of my pregnancy in September of 2023 brought with it a flood of emotions, how will I finish school? How will I still have free time? Will we be able to afford to plan our wedding? Will she be healthy? Our engagement photo appointments were soon replaced with maternity shoots and amidst all the fear and uncertainty, there was a profound sense of clarity.
I instead began asking myself how I would style her natural hair, how I would protect her brown skin from the sun but most importantly, how would I get her to love herself? It is something I continue to ask myself as my due date creeps closer.
As I prayed for my daughter to have dark curly hair and deep chocolaty skin, I realized that I was praying for her to embrace the very qualities that I had once struggled to accept in myself.
At that moment, something shifted inside me. I knew that I couldn't continue down the same path of trying to change who I was. I knew that I couldn't pass on the same insecurities and self-doubt to my daughter. I knew that I had to find a way to love and accept myself, not just for my sake, but for hers.
And so, I decided to go on a journey of self-discovery and self-love. It wasn't easy, and there were setbacks along the way. But, with each step forward, I felt myself becoming more confident and more empowered.
I surrounded myself with positive influences and sought out communities on social media platforms, like Facebook, that celebrated diversity and empowerment. I even somehow convinced my partner to practice doing curly hair on a doll. Yes, a doll. Teaching him to start from the ends of the hair and work his way to the root in order to avoid breakage was a struggle, but he eventually caught on.
I embraced my heritage, learning about the rich history and culture of my ancestors, and found strength in their resilience and perseverance. I learned how to style my natural hair and was soon rocking two-strand twists and crochet braids, as well as moisturizing my scalp at night with Mielle rosemary oil. I did research on the best skincare products for melanated skin (Good Molecules, by the way) and bought tons of children’s books that encouraged children of color to love who they are.
Slowly but surely, I began to see myself in a new light. I began to appreciate my naturally curly hair, the depth of my brown skin, and the strength in my features. I couldn’t contain my excitement when I went to my first 3D ultrasound and saw clear as day that my daughter had my same wide nose.
The feature I used to want to change about myself most, became the thing that connected me to what will be my greatest accomplishment.
Don’t get me wrong, my journey toward self-acceptance is still ongoing. But, I am committed to continuing to grow, learn, and inspire others, especially my daughter, who we have named Emery, to do the same.
So starting today, look at the features of not just yourself, but everyone around you, and you will begin to notice what's special about them. Figure out where your features come from be it your mom, your dad, or your great-great grandma whom you've never met. Every part of yourself, down to the shape of your nose, is a gift. It is what makes you who you are.
Comments
Post a Comment