black hair

We all need our hair done. I can't help but think that my lack of hair resources reminds me that I live in a land that wasn't intended for me.

This week, a commercial produced by the hair-care brand Shea Moisture went viral for all the wrong reasons.

I had to learn me because I was never given a chance to. People often act like this is easy or shouldn't be hard to grasp, but when you've literally spent your entire life not even knowing what your real hair feels like, it takes time to get used to that, especially when you have no one and nowhere to go to for solid advice.

In 2015, to be a woman (and a black woman at that) among the general public means having to keep your defenses up.

Black hair, like Black identity, is diverse and nuanced, but it still stands out as different from White hair. The point is not that all Black hair needs to look the same, but that we share the experience of feeling pressure to alter our appearance, to present a version of ourselves solely to satisfy the White gaze. When we truly own our bodies —the fat, skinny, scarred, hairy, melanated, unconventional bodies we walk around in — they will no longer be things to defend or hide or alter.

Women who want to wear their hair natural must choose: protect your curls or protect your country. Because apparently, you can’t have it both ways.