For Curly Girls, the daily challenge is to fight frizz, up the volume, and generally try not to look like a cocker spaniel that had a bad run-in with a garden hose. At least, that’s MY daily mission.
For years — about 17 of them — I was in a constant battle with my hair, determined to win, determined alternately to have either sleek strands as seen in magazines or the radiant ringlets of a bygone era. I remember mornings fraught with struggle – my mother, myself, my bangs. Then there was the hair dresser, a family friend, who decided to take a blow-dryer to my hair, sans diffuser, just “to see what we have to work with.” Then I saw the light. (And Angela, master of curly cuts.) And I let my hair win. And though there are times when tensions mount and I think I’m on the verge of hair holocaust, as long as I remember to daily wave the white flag to my follicles, peace remains.
Because while we Curly Girls may see every errant strand, every halo-of-frizz effect, every tired-looking tendril on our own heads, the good news is that the world at-large loves us just the way we are.
So surrender. Let those locks lose. Your hair and a bit of I-Don’t-Care will prove to be the winning combination.