The Weight of Our Crowns: Black Hair Stress and My Journey to Embracing It

The Weight of Our Crowns: Black Hair Stress and My Journey to Embracing It

Growing up as a Black girl, my hair journey was anything but easy. In my childhood, lessons on how to care for and love my hair were scarce, leaving me to navigate a world that didn’t always appreciate its beauty. My hair was kinky, thick, and challenging to maintain. Combing it felt like a battle, and achieving a desired style often seemed impossible. The schools I attended didn’t make it any easier; they offered little flexibility or options for hairstyles that allowed us to embrace our natural hair while feeling confident in our own skin.

Christmas was the only time I felt a little relief—a rare moment of joy where we would pool together the little money we had to buy relaxers from the black market. The relaxers were far from ideal, but they allowed me to manage my hair more easily, even if it was just for a short while. Still, most days, I stared longingly at the TV, watching girls with perfectly braided or permed hair. I wanted so desperately to feel as beautiful as they looked.

Braiding was a luxury we couldn’t afford often. I remember reusing the same braids from a previous style just to stretch the look a little longer. When I started working back in Zimbabwe, the struggle evolved. Even when I could afford to experiment with styles, I found myself limited by my hair texture, weather conditions, or even the strength of my hairline. Every trip to the salon was an emotional and financial burden.

Moving to Japan only heightened the stress. Black hair salons are few and far between, and those that cater to natural hair charge exorbitant prices. Worse still, I’m not skilled enough to plait my own hair, so as I couldn't afford the services I am filled with panic and frustration. One day, I stood in front of the mirror, tears streaming down my face, as I wondered how I would make it to work looking presentable.

Wigs were an option, but they came with their own challenges. Wearing them sometimes felt like wearing a mask—not quite me. I found myself dodging questions about my hair from people who couldn’t understand the complexity of Black hair care.

I’ve learned over the years that I’m not alone in this struggle. A friend shared how she missed job interviews because her braider canceled at the last minute. Another told me about her battle with alopecia after years of tight braiding and chemical relaxers. One woman recounted the judgment she faced when she decided to shave her head and embrace her natural look, a decision born out of exhaustion and liberation.

Despite the hardships, there’s a profound beauty in our crowns. Black hair tells a story of resilience, creativity, and culture. While the journey to embrace it can be stressful and sometimes heartbreaking, it’s also empowering.

To my fellow Black women navigating this path, remember this: Your hair is not just a reflection of your identity but a testament to your strength. Wear your crown with pride, no matter how heavy it feels.

"Our hair doesn’t need to be tamed; it needs to be loved. And when we love it, we love ourselves."