WE ALL HAVE A HAIR STORY!

Meet the Owner of HHER LLC

Hair for me like many women is defined as my crown, a true expression of how I identify with self. My hair journey has been enlightening but most important a magical triumph that continues to push forward.

I can remember when hair meant so much to me. Third grade, loud Torri the girl who was not the smartest or friendliest in the room. My hair was always braided really small and neat. My mom invested a lot in making sure my sisters and I kept our hair done on most school days. When my mother was tired of doing our hair, Burn would do it. Burn was a neighborhood braider who made sure her hands laid heavily on my head every two weeks. I enjoyed braids but ponytails where much quicker.

By the time I reach middle school I was permed out. Yes PERM out! My mother would take me to an all male Egyptians hair salon to get my hair done. At this time they were known for slaying aka burning black women's hair straight. I loved my hair straightened and permed out because that was the norm. My mom permed her hair, so I permed mine. Not knowing as a child the real reason we were perming our hair. As I look back at it, I can not remember my mom one time telling me that hair without straightening was alright. That we do not need to conform to be accepted.

Then came high school. At this time I was rocking the baby wrap. Which is just another way of saying my hair was short even when pressed. High school was not the most warming time in a girls life to grow her hair unless, she dates the school athlete and they later some how get rich and have the prettiest babies. That wasn't my story in fact I was the girl who ditch school because I did not feel pretty enough. I remember getting micros to be like everyone else. I worked so hard at my After School Matters job but I could not afford for the Africans to do my braids. So instead I went to a girl who my sister mentored. Literally the longest hours of my life. She took ten hours to do my hair and I ended up looking like the picture of what I got, not what I ask for. Oh high school was not the most heart warming hair journey but some how I seemed to manage.

At this point in my life I had graduated to accepting more of my natural hair because I could not afford weave and my mother was not paying for it. Instead, I learned how to wash and flat iron my own hair. Here is where I developed hair independence. I was in charge of creating the image that I wanted people to see in the world. I was ready to enter college and dominate my hair styles.

College aka the year of the big chop. The big chop is very familiar and expresses a time for greatness and freedom in a Black Woman's life. Here is when I finally got rid of all the perm, all the chemicals, all the heat damage from flat irons. I was a new woman with a new definition of what I thought beauty was. I loved my hair short most days except when it was time to get ready. It took me so long to learn how to keep it up. I went back to weaves shortly after.

When shifting hair styles and trying to find what fits for me from weave, wigs and braids, I had to learn how to love the natural me first. It is still to this day so important for me to understand that beauty is in the eye of the beholder and I am the beholder of my hair journey. Hair does not define me but I define it. Learning that natural is light is something that really stuck after getting my masters degree.

Life after masters is not so pleasing for a lot of individuals and especially me. I was stuck but still moving at an operational speed. I gain some confidence in my undergrad so I was not the same girl I was in high school. Less fragile more resilient to what life had to bring me. My hair after my masters was weaves which I still enjoy to this day. I could go on and on, because for black women our beauty is defined by what society wants to except. I have learned that my hair is full of life and that it shapes is never ending.

#myhairjourney #hherlc