There is something so special about natural hair that people just have to hate it. Many think it’s unmanageable, unattractive or unprofessional, and they have no problem sharing those sentiments. People have forgotten the courtesy rule, “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.”
Six years ago I transitioned from silky straight locks to an afro puff. Most people love my hair, but there are a few haters. Papa Duke is my chief hair hater. He constantly tells me to get a relaxer. One opinion of his is my hair will limit me in the professional world. It hasn’t stopped me yet. A longtime bestie already told me my hair must be straight for her wedding. OK I will straighten it for a day, but it will be twisted back up by the next. They both would prefer I have it bone straight with a bouncy wrap style. No thank you!
My granny and aunt both think my hair hinders my dating appeal. I’m often told I need to do something with my hair if I want to attract anyone. Another bestie shared a guy friend told her no man really likes natural hair. She pointed out a mutual friend with natural hair started straightening it and got a man, thus I need to do the same. In that case sign me up for cat ladyhood. I’m not one to change for other people.
Perhaps the biggest haters come from people at church. One member told me God wasn’t pleased with my hair. I told her God wasn’t pleased with her attitude. Another called my hair was short and nappy compared to my brother’s nice and silky grade. I had cut my hair off in solidarity for him losing his due to chemo. His hair grew back a different texture after treatments. She got the side-eye. Of course there are just the plain old rude ones that say “I don’t like it.” Well good thing it’s on my head and not yours.
I can’t make people accept my natural hair. They can’t make me relax it either. If loving my natural hair is wrong, I refuse to be right. Just keep hating haters.