I’ve got curly hair. Not tight ringlets, not wavy and effortlessly cool. Just some middle ground kinda curl. Meh.
The kind of curls that for a large majority of my life I have avoided. At 8, Mum cut my hair short because she was sick of having to deal with the bird’s nest on my head. When I was 12, I would tie my hair in a ponytail at the nape of my neck and let it dry that way to try to get it as straight as I could. At 18, I would try furiously to blow dry it straight with very little success. Finally, when I was 21, a wonderful new invention revolutionised my hair routine – The Muster Hair Straightener. Yes, that’s right. There was once a time where GHD’s weren’t a thing and there was a big, clunky, heavy new kid on the block. I loved that bloody thing. For the first time in my life, I could have hair that was straight. I never looked back.
But now, 15 years later, I have two girls with the most beautiful curly hair and I want them to know that their hair is amazing just the way it is, so I’ve made a decision. At 36, it’s time to come to terms with my own hair. It’s time to own it. Embrace the curls.
So I’ve bravely been letting it air-dry over the last couple of weeks and wearing it curly.
“Ha. Good one Amy. Curly hair is really brave of you”
I know. It’s such a little thing. But for me? Not so much.
I’m brave because I’m not going to listen to the voices of all the people who think having an opinion on whether or not they like my hair curly or straight better is welcomed or valid (PS, it’s neither).
I’m brave because I’m dulling the memory of the controlling ex-boyfriend who told me he only liked straight hair on girls and so like a fool, I immediately went out and got my hair chemically straightened because I was so desperate to be loved.
I’m brave because curly hair is everything I’m not. Carefree, unpredictable and wild. walking out of the house in the morning not really knowing what my hair will look like for the day is a big deal for me. I’m trying to be okay with that. For a person who likes being in control of pretty much everything, it’s hard to let go.
I’m brave because changing the way I wear my hair everyday is changing my identity. I’m going through a bit of a style upheaval right now and the curls are a part of that. Who am I now? Changing my hairstyle has made me reflect on a lot more than what’s going on on top of my head.
It’s like I don’t even know who I am anymore…
But, really I do. I know I’m the most confident I’ve ever been in my skin. I am okay with heading to the shops in my trackies, sometimes even in uggboots, because Canberra is one cold sonofabitch and I have no interest in freezing in the name of fashion like I once did. I am happy going makeup free. Sometimes. And so slowly, I am becoming okay with my curly hair. It’s going to take me some time, because for as long as I can remember, I have tried to make it something it’s not. So please, be kind if you see me rocking my curls. I’m just a Mum trying to set a good example for her curly-haired girls.