Reclaiming My Hair

I have begun the slow process of growing out my perm to reclaim my nappy roots. Yesterday, I got my hair braided and for the rest of the year, I will keep my hair in braids until the big reveal next year of a full head of healthy, natural hair.

The decision to go natural began on a whim. A few years ago, I mentioned to my hairstylist at the time that I might want to go natural for my 30th birthday. She seemed cool with it, but when I stopped going to her shop later that year (for reasons that I won't go into now), I abandoned the idea. Later, when I did turn 30, the idea resurfaced, and I mentioned it to my new hair stylist. He seemed less enthusiastic at first, then he said that he would help me through the transition. Boy, did he ever!

This saga began last summer. All of a sudden, it seemed that my hair was constantly dry and brittle. I bought new hair care products each month, but nothing worked. I spent a fortune at the hair salon on moisturizing treatments and conditioners. But still, my hair was lifeless and dull.

I thought the problem was internal, so I changed my diet and drank more water. I started to lose weight, and I returned to dance classes so that I could get regular exercise. My hair improved somewhat, but then problems began with my scalp. I developed an irritation at the back of my scalp near my neck that would not heal. Again, I tried various ointments and creams to treat it, but nothing worked.

Throughout this drama, I continued to get relaxers. I did not think that my hair and scalp issues were related to the chemical treatments because we were doing everything to combat those problems. At the time, my life was a mess so my stylist was convinced that my problems were stress-related. He also assured me that the relaxers were not the problem. I believed him.

That was until January when my hair began to fall out. Now, when a woman sees hair in her comb, it is usually not a big deal because we manipulate our hair so much that some hair is bound to come out. We are told that this periodic 'shedding' is natural. But what I experienced in January was not natural.

I scheduled a re-touch in January, although I probably should have done it in December. I waited because of holiday travel, but also because the irritation at the back of my neck had flared up terribly during right before Christmas. It was so bad that I went and bought yet another conditioner just for that spot in hopes that it would clear up before my next chemical treatment. So when I went in for my appointment, my new growth was so thick that I was afraid to comb it.

No big developments while I was in the chair. My stylist applied some tea tree oil to that spot on the back of my neck to calm the irritation, based my scalp, and applied the relaxer to my hair. We talked about his life while I sat there with the chemicals in my hair. After a while, I noticed that we were still talking, but that he had not made any moves to wash my hair. I spoke up when it started to burn, but in retrospect I should have spoken up much sooner. Anyway, he rinsed my hair, gave me a new cut, styled my hair and eventually, I left.

During the week that followed, I noticed more hair in my comb than usual. Still, I didn't panic because 'shedding' is normal and with it being winter, I figured that this additional shedding was merely seasonal. After a week, more and more hair came out and my scalp remained desert dry even after I oiled it. One night as oiled my scalp, I felt a clean spot at the backof my head and that is when I really started to loose it (pun intended). The wide-tooth comb I was using was full of hair. Even when I didn't comb my hair it was coming out. I went into a tizzy.

I immediately called my mother who told me to call the dermatologist. She was the only person to suggest that the irritated spot at the back of my scalp had been an excema flare-up, and she had been nagging me for months to see a doctor. This time I followed her advice and made an appointment to see the dermatologist the following week.

I was a total drama queen this entire time. I didn't want to be seen by anyone, and I wore scarves or bandanas everyday. My best friend called and I cried the blues to her about going bald. We both went to the same stylist, and as we complained about his various faults, she urged me to confront him about my hair. But I was too vain and actually ashamed to face him--or anyone else for that matter.

Deep down, I wanted to believe that the problem was internal--that my anxiety, depression and stress had caused my hair loss. I re-read Andre Talks Hair, the book by Oprah's stylist, Andre Walker, and googled every term related to hair loss. I pulled out my old collection of African print headwraps and packed up every hair care product I had used to take to the doctor. I even kept the hair that came out in a pastic baggy to show her.

Of course, the dermatologist took one look at my bag of hair and the 'bald' spots and immediately diagnosed chemical damage. I did not have hair loss related to alopecia or stress.
She assured me that my hair would grow back, but she said that I needed to start all over again and go natural.

I will not go into the rest of that story because it saddens me. I am disappointed in my stylist and his reaction to my situation. He expressed concern, but I think that it was based on his instinct to save face than to reassure me that things would improve. I am upset by all of the money and effort that was wasted on those half-used hair care products that I will probably have to throw away. I have continued to wear scarves, bandanas and hats in public to hide the true condition of my hair. This has been an exhausting experience.

However, I am blessed because my hair loss is not permanent. Although I have a long way to go before it is strong and healthy again, for the first time since I was 10 years old, I have made peace with my hair.

This is not just a decision of convenience or necessity, because losing my hair was actually the catalyst for me to fully pursue certain lifestyle choices. It is a part of my life realignment process in which I have been eliminating toxic elements and their influence in my life. My hair is a natural extenstion of those efforts to embrace my more authentic self. I will never have straighter hair, no matter how much money I spend on chemical treatments and relaxers, so now is as good a time as any to give them up for good. Furthermore, I want to affirm my belief in my own beauty--complete with my big butt, thick thighs and thick, nappy hair.