One morning, since my transition, I looked in the mirror and for the first time in my entire life I liked what I saw. I've always had a pretty high self esteem, my body image was healthy, I've never thought of myself as gorgeous; but I am certainly not ugly. The only thing about myself I ever really hated was my hair. Once I started going natural and seeing my hair react to the proper care and products I fell in love. I couldn't believe that this thick, beautiful, healthy looking hair was mine. Each day I find something new to marvel at: a wave in the middle of curls, the true color of my hair, humidity is an afro's best friend. At first, I couldn't keep my hands out of it; my hair has NEVER felt so soft or looked this shiny and healthy.
More than this, I felt something deep within. I was finally whole. I was finally able to accept myself for who I truly was. I was finally free. It wasn't just my victory, it felt like I was breaking my link in our collective and ongoing struggle for freedom and self expression. I know it sounds grand; but black people have been held hostage by Eurocentric standards of beauty. For centuries we are told women with fair skin, long straight hair and light colored eyes are the most desirable (thus most worthy of protection) and black women have been placed on the opposite end of that spectrum. Through technology and ingenuity, black women and other women of color, are able to mimic these sought after traits; yet are still vastly under represented in the mainstream conversation of what beautiful is. To accept one's natural hair, to me, sends the message that I am beautiful despite your constraints and definitions. I can truthfully say I don't give a damn what you think of me or what you think I should be.
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