Personal Narrative: Curls, Kinks, And Coils

486 Words2 Pages
Curls, Kinks, and Coils
Going to predominantly Caucasian private schools my whole life, having thick, dark, curly hair was an anomaly to say the least. The braids and buns my mother would create in my elementary years made me feel like a princess. Each bow and bob was a perfect piece to the imaginary tiara that rested upon my head. When people stared I saw it as admiration. When people touched I took it for interest.
As I grew older, the intricate hairstyles my mom would create became a Mecca for a sticky fingers and stray paperclips. On annual school picture days, while the night sky was still soaked with gray and the golden streetlights barely peeked through the fog, my brave mother would undertake the task of pressing my unruly tresses. Those days, I remember feeling as if I finally fit in with all my friends with straight hair. Paperclips and pencils never tangle in their hair and I wanted the same for myself. I fell into the absurd illusion that looking similar to my friends could validate my place in the world. So I abandoned my mother’s hands
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I attended a new high school and from that day on, I decided to be shamelessly me. I wore my hair natural more often, the way I’ve come to love. I experimented with products, styles, and twists and always give my curls the freedom to swim through the wind. I no longer need the bows and bobs to fill my tiara; my hair found a voice for herself. In the summer, she’s an unpredictable and powerful lion’s mane; in the winter, she transforms into an ethereal halo surrounding my head. My hair defies gravity and standards. She dances in the sun showers to Indie Rock and welcomes the falling golden-orange leaves. We dash through the busy school hallways together, ignoring the objects that inevitably tumble out. We form relationships with confidence and we look fierce doing it. We stick out like Hercules among mortals. And we wouldn’t want it any other

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