“That’s a lot of hair” is something I have heard all my life. People I meet say this in a surprised, shocked, curious, or even questioning tone. They’re right – I do have a lot of hair. When my hair is in its own big and natural glory, I’ve grown to love and appreciate it. I’ve also learned how to tame and handle it over time – up-dos, side-dos, cornrows, mini-twists, goddess braids/twists, Afro, and straightened. Yes, it seems like a lot of work. But hair care is an everyday part of my life, and it has become automatic, like riding a bike. Sure, some people can comb and brush their hair, then simply braid it to the side, or leave it as is. But every day for me is something new, and sometimes it’s a battle.

My big multiracial hair – courtesy of my dad’s African American side and my mom’s African American and Caucasian side – was a challenge from the start. When I was little my Mom did my hair; in my baby pictures I sported braids, twists, or little plastic barrettes and multicolored bobos. After years of constant pulling, braiding, and twisting, my skull is conditioned to not feel pain when someone pulls my hair.
I have lots of childhood memories – some fond and some not so great – of when people did my hair. My gigi (grandmother from my dad’s side) for instance, shows no mercy when she braids hair. She grew up in the South – southern Texas – and learned to braid hair from her mama; those old customs showed when she did my hair. She would take out her old-fashioned grease and oil my hair thoroughly ’til it was bone straight, then work my cornrows one at a time. Whenever I’d cringe, she would tap me on the side of the head with the back of the comb. It didn’t hurt. But, it was annoying.
When you have such big hair, you’re bound to get a lot of looks. Some show appreciation, others … not so much. There have been times when I’m in public and I catch people giving me occasional glances or just staring dead at my hair. I can’t always tell what they’re thinking, but I try not to worry about it. But there are some things that bother me about having big hair.

First: the people who see my hair down for the first time. They usually break off what they’re doing and circle around me, or even slowly walk with me, then say, “Dang. You’ve got a lot of hair.” And I, trying to stay
polite, since I do not know this person, will say, “Yeah, I know, right?” Then I smile. And then they start shooting me questions left and right. Meanwhile, all I’m thinking is, I just wanted to buy my Greek yogurt strawberry blueberry smoothie …. But I’ll be stuck in hair-talk for a good two minutes or so.

Second: the question “Is it real?” Truthfully, I don’t have a problem with someone asking me this. It all comes down to how the person asks. And as for the answer, yes, my hair is real. And yes, I keep it well maintained. And no, I do not wear weave. And if I did, why would you care? You’re not the one wearing it. And it would still be my hair because I paid for it. It’s plain and simple.

The third thing that bothers me is the question, “Can I touch your hair?” or “Can I try to braid/style your hair?” I get asked this nine out of ten times after someone has remarked on my hair. And I normally let people feel my hair if they ask, because it’s the decent thing to do. But, if someone touches my hair without first getting my consent, that’s a red flag; basically, someone just popped my imaginary bubble of privacy.

And for those who ask to style my hair, if I already have it braided or styled, why would I let you mess with it? It takes 20 to 30 minutes a day to brush, moisturize, and style. I’m not going to let someone undo all the hard work I’ve invested to make my hair look or feel a certain way. But if my hair is down and I haven’t done anything to it, then maybe, just maybe, I will permit someone to style it.

I’ve learned over the years from doing my hair all on my own that it’s very easy to mess up your curl pattern, it takes forever to get an Afro back to long lengths, products that contain alcohol can damage my hair, and heat isn’t needed 24/7. It would have been good to know these things when I was little, because back then I had my hair cut short to my shoulders. It was a drastic change from what I was used to, since my hair, as a child, had hung to the middle of my back, perfectly natural. But a few years later, I caused a lot of damage due to trial and error and using bad products.
Now, I’ve established a routine that moisturizes, protects, and helps my hair grow. I’m not certain if my hair will ever grow back to its original long state, but I do hope to get there at some point. Learning over time how to deal with people’s reactions to my hair has helped me appreciate the gift that has been passed down to me. My experiences have taught me to respect and treat other people the way I want to be treated. First impressions are a make or break moment, so don’t commit any of the hair etiquette faux pas that I’ve mentioned.

I’m happy with my big puffy Afro because it is part of me and it makes a statement.