Doing my hair and getting my hair done has always been a struggle. Back in the days of creamy crack relaxers, head hanging over the kitchen sink, eyes closed tight to keep the shampoo out, and hours of sitting on the floor, squirming and readjusting while my cousin, auntie, the neighbor two houses down, or my mom’s coworker braided or sewed weave through my hair, it’s been a pain.
My hair has had its different eras as my lifestyle has changed over the years, but nothing really prepared me for how difficult hair maintenance would be when I became disabled.
As a Black non-binary woman, having good hair presentation has been instilled in me since I was a baby. With my 4C hair, I was always subjected to ridicule if my hair wasn’t done up, even if it was in its natural afro state. “When will you do something with your hair?” The expectation was that something was always done to it or else it was a mess.
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