Being mixed race on both sides of my parentage but light-skinned and adopted, I am further removed from my genetic make-up and, consequently, my cultural identity. My hair is the real indicator that I am mixed and for me, it is wonderful as I am proud of where I have come from.
I only ever remember seeing grandmothers with gray hair. I had so much shame around my gray hair, there were very few people in my life who knew just how gray I was and how often I was dying my hair to make it look dark.
My hair is a huge part of self-expression for me, especially when I travel. It’s so big and can sometimes look “untamed”, which is actually when I feel most beautiful. As amazing as it is to be natural, I still think there is a huge pressure to always have perfectly defined curls.
My hair does not define my entire identity. My words and actions define who I am, and my hair is simply a form of expression that I choose to express on any given day.
I bought into the negative stereotypes about grey hair for years. I subjected my scalp and hair to monthly hair dyes that I didn’t want to do or pay for, for over a decade because I felt the pressure to hide my natural grey hair.
Our hair is more than just strands; it embodies our identity, culture, and even politics. It tells stories that are deeply intertwined with our sense of self and the perceptions we carry, consciously or not, into the world.
Recognising my body as a sacred vessel that carries me through these journeys motivates me to work with my body instead of against it. This practice has helped me appreciate, feed, love, and support my body in the way it asks me to.
My mum taught me to always stay vigilant in understanding when the majority or the ‘trusted voices’ were falling short. She told me to be brave enough to speak power to those who couldn’t always speak so boldly for themselves or were not given the platforms to do so.