My Hair Story

So in honor of the opening weekend of Chis Rock's Good Hair documentary (to spite that I was unable to see it because it is not yet playing in New Orleans), I thought I would reflect on my own personal hair story.

So it all started with afro puffs...I believe I rocked this from birth to about 2. Then once it was time to start school I wore two braided ponytails. My mother has an obsession with smooth, straight roots and i did not have a perm, so in order to achieve the look she desired, she blow dried my hair straight every morning and then braided my two ponytails. My hair was super thick and my mom developed a condition called water on the wrist, just from styling my hair each morning. To spite her condition brought on by all my thick ass hair, we held on to the natural hair and toughed it out without a perm.

As I got oler I became obsessed with my hair. I was never pleased with the way it looked, no style was ever perfect enough. My mom became frustrated with me and so at the tender age of 8, I took over combing my own hair. What kind of 8 year old combs there own hair??? Dee Wright baby...

I managed to damage it pretty badly in the 5th grade...by the 6th grade I had figured out how to die my entire head honey golden brown by emptying a bottle of sun in in my entire head and spending the day in a chlorine filled pool. So by the time I started middle school I was damn near a blonde!

In the 7th grade I said good-bye to pressing combs and started getting perms.

I started high school with a hideous ass haircut where the front of my hair was cut short and the back was long. I spent what seemed like forever trying to grow that cut out.

By my sweet 16 I was rocking a hairstyle inspred by Monica on the "Boy is Mine" video in which she wore half her hair up in a ponytail adorned with chopsticks and the other half down...I wore it super straight with bangs. That became my signature look. I had over 50 pairs of chopsticks in every color for every occassion.

Well by 17, I had a hair tragedy in which my stylist did not thoroughly rinse all the perm out of the back of my hair. When I went to wash my own hair the next week it started coming out in handfulls.

I was devastated! I spent atleast a year crying over it. I ended up having to get my hair cut into a bob. I thought it was so ugly and so in turn I thought I was so ugly. In attempt to compensate for the perceived ugliness, I developed an addiction to color.

I started dying my hair every color under the sun from red to blonde with black and brown in between. Then I discovered extensions...extensions were a never ending cycle for me...get them in...take them out...get them in again...snatch them back out...never satisfied...

Then I went through a cutting phase...I was cutting my hair every two weeks...

By the time I turned 23, I looked up and my hair was saying fuck you Danielle (and rightfully so). I took sometime to self-reflect...All those years I hadn't been happy with the way that I looked and I was taking it out on my hair. Whenever something went wrong in my life I chopped it off, added extensions, or colored it. I had to force myself to separate my own personal issues with my physical appearance from what was actually staring back at me in the mirror.

I decided that I was no longer going to use my hair as a crutch to feel better about my physical appearance...I was going to learn to like the way I looked with my hair in its natural color, texture, the whole nine...

So about 4 years ago, I grew out the perm and the color. It was hard...I mean I hated the way I looked most times. Of course, I still flat ironed my hair straight....but it was so thick! And in the New Orleans humidity it would frizz up sooooo easily. And my natural hair color that I hadn't seen since the 6th grade was atrocious to me.

Then one day I just said fuck it...this is me and I'm gonna learn to like it! So I just decided that thick frizzy dark brown hair was cute and I been rockin' it ever since. I don't worry about my hair frizzing up, I just grab a ponytail holder or just wear big hair. I've succombed to the urge of extensions only a few times...always ripping them out within a week or two of getting them. I've learned to like my hair exactly as it is...and when I don't like the way I look I challenge myself to investigate the underlying persisting cause of my discontentment instead of trying to take it out on my hair.

I no longer define the way I look by my hair. Now don't get me wrong I damn sure think my hair can help me to enhance a look. However, I don't think it'll help me to view myself in a more positive way.

Opposite my girl India, I am definately my hair! The cycle of changes that i have endured via my hair is the perfect reflection of my evolution as a person!