No matter what walk of life one comes from, hair is important. Society has made it so that one’s hair defines their character, but this is not necessarily true. The way someone styles his or her hair is their decision, and should be for their personal expression.

I have preached this, but only recently have I begun to practice it.

At age nine, I began wearing my hair in an afro. I liked it for a few years, but I cut it off before age eleven. I wanted something “fresh and clean.” My middle school classmates encouraged me to “grow [back] the ’fro.” I fought, I fussed and I would not give in. I was under the common misconception that my “coarse” hair was unmanageable, unlovable and unacceptable.

Every other week I had my hair cut very low, which meant little maintenance was required. It was a simple process that continued for many more years, but began to halt once my step-sister started wearing her hair in natural styles as opposed to flat-ironing. She inspired me.

Beforehand whenever seeing someone with long, naturally growing hair, I was apprehensive. I was questioning. After seeing someone doing their hair in all these different styles, I was entranced. I searched the internet for different possibilities of hairstyles that I could try, but there was still one problem I had to yet to face: growth.

Nearly a year has passed since I first declared my “growing the ’fro,” and I flaked. I flaked about three times. This time around, things are different. I’m much more proud of my hair texture, and I do not care what others might say during my awkward stages. So I am now proud to say that I am growing out my hair into some sort of style. I probably won’t rock too high, at least, not yet. Baby steps.