My hair is naturally curly.
I got it from my maternal grandmother.
The rest of my family members all have long, straight hair.
I’ve been subjected to all sorts of ridicule and mockery,
But it hurt the most when it came from my family.
body image, hair, beauty standards, bullying
My forehead is kind of big.
I’ve always been bullied because of how I looked,
My forehead,
And my hair—
Which isn’t bad by the way,
But it isn't as beautiful as everyone else’s in the family.
I’ve always heard things like,
“Your hair could work as an antenna for the T.V.”
My curly hair was like a disease.
Everyone pitied me for it.
Everyone offered to help fix it.
My hair has seen it all: chemicals, food masks, oils, creams, freaking spiritual healings...
hair, beauty standards, bullying
My paternal grandmother always had a brush,
And loads of hair products ready with her to tame my “unruly”, unkempt hair.
She would sit me down on my knees,
pull at my hair painfully until it got detangled,
then she would apply a lot of hair cream,
pull my hair back into a bun or braid it,
Until the curls were no longer visible.
“Frizzy-haired!”
“Need a brush?”
“How come you don’t brush your hair?”
“Who electrocuted you?”
“A doctor shouldn’t look like that.”
“You need to brush your hair, dear, or it’ll collect dirt.”
body image, hair, bullying, beauty standards
I spent so many years wondering why God gave me a decent-looking face—or so people say—and hair that looks the way it does.
He could’ve given me decent hair too.
I figured God must’ve done this on purpose.
But why?
beauty standards, body image, hair
My hair is curly,
And I love it.
I’m tired of the stupid things people say to me.
Going out is one of the worst experiences ever.
I feel a knot in my stomach whenever I’m about to go out.
I don’t know if this is social anxiety.
I have self-confidence,
And I love my hair.
I wish people would accept differences.
My cousin came to visit us one day.
“Why does your hair look like a toilet brush?”
he asked me when I opened the door.
body image, hair, beauty standards, bullying
I am a curly-haired girl.
Everyone calls my hair scraggly.
Everyone insists that I should straighten it,
But I don’t want to.
I went out with my hair down yesterday.
It was curly and a little bit frizzy.
“Your hair is disgusting,” a guy on a bike told me.
body image, beauty standards, hair, racism