For 15 long years, I played a complicated game with my hair, betraying my natural curls with a series of chemical treatments that I indulged in with a mix of excitement and guilt. Every three months, I would escape to the salon to undergo a strong keratin treatment that would transform my voluminous, curly locks into sleek, straight tresses. With hundreds of dollars spent and hours lost in the salon chair, I would emerge with hair that flowed effortlessly—as if I had just stepped out of a shampoo commercial. Gone were the tight curls that once defined my hair; what remained was smooth, velvety hair that seemed to defy the chaos of my life. It was a hair felony committed repeatedly, but each time, I did so without regret.
The turning point for my hair journey came shortly after the birth of my first daughter at the age of 34. The initial days of motherhood were a whirlwind—filled with sleepless nights, the frustration of a colicky baby, and an overwhelming sense of losing control over every aspect of my life. Just when I felt like everything was spiraling out of control, that first keratin treatment arrived like a beacon of hope. I emerged from the salon with hair that was the epitome of ease—smooth, manageable, and undeniably beautiful. In those chaotic moments of new motherhood, my hair transformed into the one detail I could control, providing me small solace amid the storm. It was comforting—like holding on to a darling pool floatie while being swept away by waves.
As life continued to toss me about, I found myself hooked on the ease of my keratin treatments. Every three months, I would succumb again to the promise of effortlessly straight hair, despite knowing that it meant sacrificing my natural curls. The process was addictive; I’d watch the frizz slowly creep in as my hair grew out, and with each hint of uncomfortable regrowth, I’d schedule my next appointment. Each time, I would step away from the salon chair feeling like a new person, my hair a fresh start amidst the whirlwind of parenting and life’s uncertainties. The keratin treatments provided me with that reassuring veil of smoothness, making the unpredictable phases of my life seem just a little more manageable.
However, beneath the surface of shiny hair, a conflict brewed. I was engaging in an act of betrayal—turning my back on my true self, my natural curls. With every treatment, I wondered if I was losing a piece of my identity. The straight locks became a mask that shielded me from the wildness of life and motherhood, yet they also concealed who I was at my core. My curls were a symbol of my uniqueness, a reflection of my personality that I had chosen to hide. The more treatments I underwent, the more disconnected I felt from my roots—both literally and figuratively. I started to grapple with the realization that I was craving authenticity in a world that felt increasingly curated and unnaturally sleek.
During those years of chemical camaraderie, it finally dawned on me that while my life was chaotic, so too were my natural curls. They were a part of my journey, embodying the ups and downs, the beauty and messiness. I began to appreciate the stories my curly hair told, reflecting moments of laughter and tears as I navigated motherhood and life’s demands. With each push and pull of my curling hair, I recalled powerful memories that had shaped me. After years of silencing this part of myself, I started feeling a longing to embrace my curls once again, to reclaim the identity that I had sidelined.
Thus began my quest for reconciliation. I was ready to say goodbye to the keratin treatments and welcome back my natural curls. It became a journey of unlearning ingrained habits and rediscovering a dynamic part of myself that had long been hidden. Slowly but surely, I embraced the frizz and the imperfections. As my curls returned, I found a new sense of comfort and joy in my hair, allowing it to serve as a reminder of who I truly was—a beautiful blend of chaos and grace, just like motherhood itself. In letting go of the sleek, polished look, I found freedom and began to embody the wild and wonderful spirit of my true self, curls and all.