“Don’t touch my hair, when it’s the feelings I wear…Don’t touch my crown…”

-Solange (African American music artist)

This song represents a relatable experience for black women with their hair and their appearances. It has initiated various discussions, of which some have taken on a political and/or racial approach to describing what the song means to them. However, my understanding of this song is about protecting one’s own beauty and showcasing the versatility of hair. By presenting pertinent experiences that have contributed greatly to my current position on beauty, I will be communicating why the song rings in my head as “‘Don’t touch my hair, when it’s the…’   memories and lessons ‘…I wear…’”.

To begin, we delve into my earliest experiences of how I have dealt with my hair.

The beauty of braids

Six years old – sitting in a rickety chair, clenching onto the arm-rest for dear life as I shed tears while I endear the pain of getting my hair pulled. Each line parted provides a kind of pain that I could hear from within my scalp, wishing I could submerge my face into a bowl of cold water. “Beauty is pain!” I hear one lady shout from the doorway, separating the front room and the kitchen. She couples the comment with laughter. Annoyed, I lift my head forcing the lady to lighten her weight onto my head and catching a glimpse of my reflection in tears. “Awu, intombazane enhle ingabukeka kanjani sengathi inentukuthelo yabesifazane eyi-thousand!” (Awu, how can a beautiful girl look like she has the wrath of women?) – a man shouts in isiZulu caught dead in his tracks as he sees me in tears. Ignoring the almost funny comment, I think “Is beauty supposed to feel this painful?”. Hours came and went until I was done. Upon drying my hair after dipping into a bowl of hot water, I get up and instantly blush as I hear my sister say in Sesotho “Sisi, sheba hore o motle jwang!” (Wow! Just look how beautiful you are). I wave my head to and fro to make my hair swing in a manner that does not add to the already painful scalp.

The beauty of relaxed hair

Seven years old – Closed eyes, arms crossed over my chest and hands clutching onto the towel. Smelling what I could describe as burnt plastic as I rest my head back thinking of the ultimatum I was presented with the night before “U tlo yetsa moriri oa hau kapa re tlo kuta!” (You are going to do your hair or we will cut it off – in Sesotho). Tears still streaming down my cheek as my head continues to throb from the constant pulling required to apply the relaxer. The tingling on my scalp growing with every second that passes. Being the good little girl I was, I remained in my seat, waiting for the hairdresser to come get me so she could wash the relaxer off. Seconds and more seconds pass as I wait but no one comes to get me. The tingling grows into what feels like fire that has been unleashed onto my head. I cry knowing that this will ensure my rescue from this HORRIBLE cream.  Once washed, dried and styled,  I tossed my hair back and say “Argh, my hare!” (Oh! My hair! – in Afrikaans), admiring the dark, thick locks on my head which stretch down onto my shoulder.

The above-mentioned memories reflect the journey most, if not all, women go through as they change their hair in the effort of improving their appearances and showcasing a new look. We endure pain, discomfort and overall reduction of willpower. However, these memories have worked as contributing factors adding to a few of my life lessons about beauty which may not be directly understood. Given the time to examine the skills I have learnt, I know that my experiences of getting my hair done has taught me to commit to something to the end, endure the challenges faced and be patient. I have also learnt that I could cry and throw tantrums but “this too shall pass”.  This is the true beauty that I would like to compliment my mirror for as I look at the hair on my head. I am beautiful for I have endured the above-mentioned experiences to have built a much stronger character. Furthermore, my experience has taught me to appreciate the various hairstyles for I know that a lot of effort and/or pain has been endured to result in the beauty presented.

In this regard, I would like to wish every woman and man going through the struggles of attaining their own beauty, a happy International Compliment Your Mirror Day.