4. Sep, 2020
Epic Gina Yashere and A Hair Razing Story
2013 when I finally said goodbye to the creamy crack…
I’ve had a love hate relationship with my hair all my life. My hair is beyond 4c. Super African. The nappiest of naps. If I don’t comb it for 2 days, I’m officially a dread. My hair was long and thick, tangly and broke many combs as a kid, even the thick ones with the glitter in ‘em. I still have dents in the side of my head from when my mum and older sister’s knees were trying to hold me still as they tugged at my mop. When my mum used African thread in my hair, I picked up nicknames like ‘upside down tree head’ and ‘Medusa’ at school.
When I was finally allowed to use a hot comb on my hair when I was 13 I fried that **** into submission until I graduated to the relaxer at 16, then spent the next 25 years or so giving my scalp third degree burns every six weeks with a 2 year break when I became a soul to solve funky dread. In 2013 I finally realised my head doesn't need to be straight to be cute. I can enjoy letting my hair be exactly as it grows out of my head and save a fortune and years of my life by not having to spend entire days at the salon. I realised I no longer gave a monkey dung about my hair being considered feminine enough.
I still walk like a barbarian whether my hair is faded or flowing down my back like Pocahontas (an ex boyfriend actually said that **** to me once) the freedom that comes with that realisation is immeasurable. Now this is not a diatribe against women who wear weaves or still straighten their hair. DO You? Whatever makes you feel beautiful. That's the joy of individuality. This is my story. The full version of which you'll get to read when my book comes out next year this is just a snippet! Gina Yashere