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Me, Myself and My Hair

Hair has always been a huge part of my existence. If you ask my mom she would probably say nothing more than “It is on your head”. To me hair is much more than that. It’s the one thing that I am a stickler about. Since I was a child my hair has always been an issue for me.

From age 5 when my tight curls caused heartache and actually more of a headache, trying to comb through those thick dark tresses. After a few years of exasperated crying, hair related tantrums and combs full of follicles that caused a frustrating rift in the relationship I have with my hair; my mom finally let me get a relaxer.

For those who don’t know what a relaxer is let me give you a small glimpse into this foul smelling white goop that you put in your hair to make it straight. It smells of sulfuric acid and if you leave it in too long your hair will burn right off your head.

I’m not sure who in the African American community decided that this was a good idea, but then again who in the Caucasian community thought that getting into a human sized oven in order to have darker skin was a good idea? Despite this,