I, like other black women and girls, have a complicated relationship with my hair.

I’m tender-headed and an overall sensitive person, so when I was younger I hated hair days. I’d get overstimulated quickly and when I was younger, it was a chore for everyone involved. That led me to getting perms every month (don’t have any pictures unfortunately), until I needed a new approach because I was moving states to start college. That’s when I started getting braids with my cousin’s guidance until I found a braider in Vegas, where I moved.

A friend at the time suggested I go natural since I was getting braids anyway. She had embraced her natural hair journey and encouraged me to do the same. I agreed to her chopping off the unhealthy, dead hair from the perm and I continued getting box braids and twists.

And then I got pregnant, and left my braider behind. I started wearing headband wigs, got my hair braided or twisted here and there, but more importantly, I grew comfortable taking care of my natural hair.

And then, a year ago, I had surgery. The recovery was rough. I didn’t have the strength nor the physical ability to reach up and do my hair. When I started feeling better, a few months ago, the damage was done. My hair was dead, matted, and unhealthy. My mom and I tried to save what we could, but too much was breaking off.

Before this, I had considered cutting my hair off before, but was too scared to take the leap. There’s a spiritual belief that hair holds memories and cutting your hair can be symbolic of starting over. At times, I’ve wanted to start fresh for myself, but fear always got in the way.

Except this time, fear turned into a necessity. My hair was thinning and damaged beyond repair. The only way I could think to save it, was to release my attachment to it and cut it off.

I’m coming to terms, still, with having short hair and with how it looks on me. At the same time, my scalp feels healthy. I know my hair will grow back healthier, but a part of me still worries it won’t grow back at all, or at least to the length I had. I go back and forth on if the look suits me.

It’s not my favorite look on me and I’m not confident with it yet, but it also pushes the boundaries of my comfort zone. It’s a way to challenge and unpack why femininity and beauty is associated with long hair; I don’t have to buy into that belief. I can also wear a headwrap or a wig, so I don’t regret my decision at all. There’s beauty in a reset, beauty in discomfort (within reason).

Anyways, I’ve been taking a trip down memory lane. Here are pictures of me and my hair over the years.