‘Brush your hair’

I stared at the bathroom mirror, adding water and brushing my hair down, making every effort to make it look prettier, but nothing worked. My hair was filled with weirdly shaped curls and waves that grew frizzier the more I brushed it. Why couldn’t I look like the pretty girls at school, on TV, or from the movies? 

When I went to school, I was constantly teased about my big and puffy hair. I was compared to a bush, a mop, a clown, and even Bouffalant, a Pokémon with an afro. Although the comments didn’t hurt me, they made me realize that my hair was different from the straight hair that all the other girls at my school had. 

As I grew up, my hair got curlier, and my parents had no idea what to do, especially when it came to picture days. When the seventh-grade picture day rolled by, I showed up with an atrocious haircut, dreading for my picture to be taken. As I waited in line, one of the student assistants handed me a cheap hair comb and asked me to brush my hair. I explained that my hair could not be brushed with a small comb, but she handed it to me either way. I went home that afternoon, filled with frustration and tears in my eyes. 

Once I started high school, I was tired of battling my hairbrush every morning, so I started to research textured hair. The more I learned, the more I was able to tame the frizz. After a few months of taking care of my hair, I noticed now the ringlets were more defined, and I received more compliments. But there was still a small voice in my head telling me that I needed straight hair because everyone else had it. As my years in high school went by, however, I began creating memorable friendships that allowed me to understand who I was and help me build my confidence. My friends weren’t friends with me because I looked different. Instead, they enjoyed my company and personality. I realized that I was more than just the “puffy-haired girl,” and soon, my hatred for my hair slowly died. 

I am still learning how to embrace my hair. There are some days where I am exhausted from trying to tame the frizz and hearing the degrading comments about my hair, but I am understanding that I am more than the frizz and curls that sit on my head. My personality is built off of the different experiences I have overcome, which has allowed me to accept the imperfections of me.