black hair, gender, and reclaiming my body

it's just a very weird feeling to realize that you've never been allowed to own your body for yourself. 

growing up in a black (west indian/caribbean) household as a (at the time) black girl meant that your mother took care of your hair and your clothes. depending on how she personally felt about freedom of expression, you'd be allowed to dress how you wanted--as long as she liked it. when you hit puberty, your family would make comments about your body's development, forcing you, then, to be extra self-conscious about the space you take up. outsiders, as well, would make comments and respond in kind--honking at you while you walk down the street in your high school uniform; getting groped by guy "friends"; being jealous of other girls' physical development (or lackthereof). 

at no point did i truly feel like my body was my own until i cut my hair in 2014.

my friend--my first year--Neb had passed away suddenly during that summer. we met in 2013 when me and another friend were Group Leaders for Orientation Week. he was one of the first years in our group. we hung out every day for that week and it was like...he had always been there. we introduced him to our other friends, and he became everyone's little brother. so him passing away at 19 was extremely difficult to handle for me. it grew to be okay when, a few years later, i had a dream about him and it was like...in the dream he told me everything was okay; that he's okay. another friend of mine, that very night, had a similar dream and we talked about it for a bit.

a few hours before his viewing, i was tryna style my hair. i let it grow out because i was tired of using a relaxer on it ($60/month! at that time i felt like $200), but now the ends were long and stringy and it was causing a panic within me (that i would later understand was gender dysphoria!) and i didn't know what to do. the obvious course of action was to cut those ends off, but then my hair would be short. and growing up in a black household, being a black woman with short hair was a "no no" for whatever arbitrary, transmisogynoiristic reason folks could come up with. i panicked; i was scared, but i did it and...nobody moved, lmao. i didn't suddenly burst into flame and burned down the house. it was just another day that ended in "Y" but it was, truly, possibly, the first time i ever felt like i owned my hair and myself. 

that started a hair journey for me--i went all Natural that year and started growing it out. i would put it in all sorts of funky styles; used flower bows and pins and clips. big and bold and brass, you could absolutely see me from a mile away lol. i would tie my headscarves into big bows to tie my hair up around my scalp (i was at my most feminine ever and looking back, it feels so weird but i kno i was super happy at that time and that's what mattered!). sometimes, i dressed in all black, with a black choker and boots and black lipstick. (that's when i'd get the most stares, especially from cishet men. one time a man walked up to me and asked if i was an art student lmfao). other times, i wore this metalic blue lipstick with matching eyeliner. i had a dark purple lipstick i wore that i blended with black and i'd wear this long, white, burgundy, and black patterend sweater situation that ended at the back of my calves. other times i'd wear pastel pink and green colours and had my makeup match so i looked like a 5'9" walking pastel watermelon lool. 

and with my big hair and bold colours, i would get these...comments from people. Especially Black women. That were...kind, but made me feel uneasy: "Omg, i love your hair it's so full and long!", "Your hair is gorgeous, i wish i could grow mine as long as yours!", "Ugh, that must've taken you forever to grow out. If i had hair like that, i would never cut it", and of course the, "Omg, your hair got so long! *reaches to touch it*" the obsession with having long hair as a Black person (at this point, it's, like, 2015-2017. i got into kpop and saw how people fucked with gender expression [minimally, but it was still very big to me!!], so i was figuring out my gender and sexuality at this time) that's viewed as a Black woman always bothered me because the way i faced it was people projecting onto me. and because i didn't know how to react, i ended up internalizing that projection, which made it hard to really enjoy who i was and how i wanted to take up space in life. i would freeze when my parents' friends (Black women) would touch my hair because i hated it, but being engrained with Respect Your Elders loomed over me. so i was always stuck: i hate this but if i say anything, it's rude and i'll get in trouble. the last straw was this white woman i was in teacher's college with asking if she could touch my hair; i said, "no", and she said, "Oh, you're one of those" and i never talked to her again because girl fuck you

so i contented with that for a bit until one day, after washing my hair for several hours and being exhausted from putting them into single twists, and also having immense gender dysphoria at the length of hair and people perceiving me as a Black woman (by this point, i absolutely knew i wasn't and it fucked with me bad) i cut it. at first, it was just the stringy bits at the end lol. but as time passed, i just...kept going. twist after twist until i basically had a rudimentary undercut...and again, nobody moved.

"oh! you should get (male family friend) to help with that, he's a barber"

and for several years, i went about cutting my hair (so this is now 2018-2023). undercuts at first, then faux hawks, then faux hawks with designs. the works. it was weird at first, having such short hair and it taking under an hour to wash (damn near cried at how quick i could was my hair, my god). but man, it was...freeing. i got "hello sir--i mean, ma'am"'d a lot and...it was cool. you were right the first time, but no worries, i'd think to myself. and have a lil internal chuckle. 

and it just felt right. i was in control. i could do what i wanted to it. and i fucking loved it. 

i think, how i dressed and presented myself from 2015-2017 really felt right as well for me, at the time. i was genderqueer and bisexual. how i viewed myself was very genderfuck-y and i enjoyed that. it made sense. 

and then i started thinking about my attraction to men, lool. and not liking how men would look at me lol. and reaaaallly enjoying how (Black) women would look at me or comment on me lool.

so after about 5+ years of id'ing as bisexual, i made a tweet that said something like, "mmm, ykno...the more i think about it, the more i realize i'm in a space where i'm just not really attracted to men like that and i dunno why. i don't think i'd marry a man or see myself with one for the rest of my life." aaaaaand here we are today, dykin it up lol

reclaiming control and acceptance of my body and personhood through my hair has been such a whirlwind of an experience because i'm also giving myself permission to take up space. that's something i've had such a difficult time with because i know that taking up space means being my most honest self and i don't think it would be accepted by most of my family (i still live at home). but im at a point in life where idgaf anymore and that's been super freeing for me. i'm glad i took that leap of faith all those years ago in 2014, because that lead me to where i am right now. and i want to continue taking those leaps towards accepting and loving myself in all it's weird little ways.

my next hair journey is to get dreads. and im hoping to have that by the end of the year, so that's exciting!

we'll see how that goes~

thanks for reading!

-R <3