Why I’ll Never Wear Wigs Again
The death of my wig-wearing days was December 31st, 2019, the day I chopped my hair off. All of it.
Seriously, it wasn’t a bob. Not a pixie cut. Not even a teeny-weeny afro.
No ma’am! I. WAS. BALD. AS. TWEETY.
Look at me and my little peach fuzz! I wasn’t kidding, y’all — I was even wearing yellow like Tweety Bird!
“Wow, Christine! You’re bold as f**k, I could ne-…”
Yeah, SAVE it! I said the same thing for at least a decade.
This decision was also different from first time I did the “big chop”, a process in which Black women cut off the majority (if not all) of their relaxed, or chemically processed, hair to embark on their natural hair journey.
In 2014 I got the big chop, and I only did it because my hair was experiencing breakage from heat sensitivity and poor maintenance after years of relaxer treatments.
At the time, I transitioned by allowing my hair to reach at least 4 inches of natural, new hair growth before trimming off my chemically treated ends.
Still, I never became comfortable with showing off my natural hair or learning how to manage it. To be perfectly truthful, I got box braids within 10 hours of my big chop and more than half of that time was spent sleeping.
Yep, I wasted NO time.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t ready, and the process never really changed from that moment forward. Instead, it quickly became a horrible pattern in my life.
Of course, there were days when I gave my hair a break before a fresh weave or new braiding style. However, I was always quick to slap on a baseball cap or sun hat until my hair grew out at least another 3 inches.
Once my hair grew to this point, I would do a twist out and wear it out for about 2–3 days max.
In retrospect, I was out of my mind for being embarrassed about my hair!
However, this only goes to show how heavily I relied on wigs, weaves, and braids for a sense of beauty and comfort. As Black women, we’re often institutionalized with these social pressures from such a young age.
It begins with “taming” our hair to the standards of school administrations to being restricted to “professional hairstyles” determined fit for the workplace by a majority that is, 100% of the time, not Black.
The saddest reality is that although the natural hair movement is expanding, the Black community also still has a long way to go with embracing the beauty of our hair’s kinky texture.
Therefore, this isn’t just an issue within predominantly white societies, but it’s an internalized struggle within our own communities as well. We’ll venture deeper into this topic at a later time. Trust me.
Side note: Can you believe I felt so vulnerable and almost naked in the picture above?! More so than when I completely shaved my head?
ISN’T THAT PSYCHOTIC?!
Well, clearly it was because I became fed up with my hair and all her diva-tude by the end of 2019!
First, let’s rewind to the start of that year.
I had just moved to New York City for my first “big-girl” job after grad school.
Who knows? Maybe it was the sudden change of environment. Perhaps it was the lack of Southern hospitality, or maybe I WAS JUST HUNGRY because New York’s mob of street rats kept jumping me for food on the way home!!!!!
All I know is that one day, decades of suppressed anger and insecurity had boiled to the surface:
- I was exhausted by how much time it would take in the morning to get my hair “work-ready” for another day at the office. Forget waking up early to catch the subway, I woke up early just so I would have enough time to do my hair…
- I was always stressed by how much money I spent on buying hair and paying stylists who were constantly overbooked, which resulted in me having to find another hairstylist in a ridiculously short amount of time
- This might have been the tipping point: I was done accommodating people’s expectations of my hair to be sleek, straight, or professionally styled for an interview, bridal party, or some other fancy occasion that wouldn’t last longer than 1–4 hours of my life anyway!
DOGGONE IT AND DON’T get me started on how many weekends I sacrificed to sit in a chair for 3 – 6 hours getting my hair done instead of travelling, hitting up a Broadway show, or enjoying happy hour with friends at Taco Dumbo for their dangerously delicious frozen margaritas!
*Deep breaths*
I guess you can say that enough was ENOUGH.
On December 31, 2019, I woke up no different than the day before. I was home for the holidays and very excited!
Not because it was New Year’s Eve…even though I wish I had celebrated a bit more had I known what was to come mere months later…
No, something in me was ready for change and eager to dive in headfirst. No pun intended.
As I wrapped up my morning routine, I couldn’t help but linger in front of the mirror longer than usual. Nothing was out of sorts, but I suddenly felt a disconnect.
It was almost as if I didn’t recognize myself and the innermost part of me felt like it was anticipating something.
Sure, the fatigue of the hustle and bustle had probably caught up to me, yet another wave of urgent longing washed over me.
A longing for acceptance, renewal, and, amusingly, a desire to not give a f**k. If you ask anyone who knew me before that point, I ALWAYS gave a f**k.
Long story short, I was ready to start training in the art of being unbothered.
It was MY life, yet I had allowed something that was only a part of me to define all of me.
You see — being born and raised in a Western society, our culture often centralizes our traditional concepts of beauty in a hierarchy of traits.
Arguably, the first is typically the dominant race of these societies (a.k.a. white); the second is hair type/texture; the third is our body type.
There are other factors in the hierarchy, but I would consider the aforementioned to be the top three based on our modern society.
Now this is all up for debate, but I bet you if you go through a plethora of Golden Age Hollywood blockbusters, 8 times out of 10, the female lead is typically a white, blonde-haired, skinny woman.
That is at least until women like Marilyn Monroe came along. And, mind you, she was a natural brunette with a curvy figure. She clearly changed the former to adapt to the mold, but the sultry latter worked to her unique advantage!
Fast forward to the 90s, your Hollywood bombshells include the likes of Jennifer Aniston, Cameron Diaz, Meg Ryan, Reese Witherspoon, Britney, Michelle Pfeiffer, Julia Stiles, Uma Thurman, Heather Locklear, Tara Reid, Christina Applegate, and the list goes oooooooooon!
Just a friendly reminder: This is not an attack on white, blonde-haired skinny women nor is there anything wrong with women who fall into this category. This case-scenario simply intends to shed light on our society’s longstanding standards of beauty in the Contemporary Era.
Now…where were we? Back to how I was about to regain my grip on reality on New Year’s Eve!
Sometimes, in order to re-energize, we have to release all control and pinpoint the obstacles in our lives.
When I shaved my hair, I did it knowing I would probably look like a walking Q-tip and it would take some time getting used to, especially with my round, smiley face.
However, I knew this challenge would also force me to adapt very quickly and overcome the hurdles blocking my way to restored confidence.
What I didn’t expect was the amount of support and understanding I would receive from family and friends. After all, I hadn’t told anyone about my decision that day.
That’s a lie — I told my sister 15 minutes before I was heading to a highly-rated barbershop (thanks, Google) and I wanted her to come with me.
She definitely thought I was joking and went along for the car ride until I pulled to the shop. Immediately, her jaw dropped.
She looked at me.
I looked at her.
And within seconds she knew I was being dead serious haha. The girl can’t drive, so she knew she was being held hostage until this was over with.
She chuckled knowingly, “Did you tell mom?”
I burst out laughing and made my way inside. Have you met Nigerian parents?
Ain’t nobody got time for that and I refused to be coaxed out of this decision!
Plus, I knew my mother wouldn’t be home for another 5 hours, which was enough time to prep for the interrogation that would come later.
Additionally, I was cognizant of the fact that if I gave myself more time to think about something I had already considered for so long, then I would never do it. Surprisingly that night, apart from the obvious “why”, my mother didn’t pose many questions.
In case we haven’t met before, which is the case for 99% of you, my family has grown accustomed to my adventurous, spur-of-the moment decisions ever since my senior year of college.
Two months before I graduated with my Bachelor’s, I accepted a 6-month fellowship to Moscow. Yes, Russia. Trust me, that’s a story for another day!
One month after my fellowship ended, I was accepted into an amazing Master’s program in Scotland. Of course, I couldn’t stop there.
Three weeks before my dissertation was due and my program came to a close, I accepted a traineeship with an NGO in London.
By the time Thanksgiving rolled around the same year, I had accepted an offer for my first full-time job in NYC weeks later and skipped my graduation ceremony.
Wheeew, child!
So yeah, I think they knew better than to ask questions at that point. Besides, what would scolding me do? Make me go back to the barbershop and glue the shaved coils back onto my head?
**Channels Nigerian accent, “Abeg, leave me ooooo!”**
As for the rest of my family’s reaction — my brother trolled me for a good 10 minutes as younger brothers do. Though he did encourage me with the fact that my morning showers would be a whole new, beautiful experience.
And boy, was he right!!
The sensation of warm, running water on your scalp is SO AMAZING AND RELAXING! It is an incredibly therapeutic start to your day and, now that I’ve grown my hair out since then, I really do miss this!
As for my dad, he didn’t notice anything different until the 3rd or 4th day…so there’s that.
It took about 3 weeks for me to grow a full, visible hairline again and what I unearthed about myself during this time was an experience that has impacted me to this very day.
This period of my life has to have been the most freeing in recent memory. I was working out more and LOVING it, eating healthy, taking more nature walks, and being more social!
It’s also kind of intriguing to look back on because why wasn’t I doing all these things before?
Then it hit me.
What I realized was that, by cutting off all my hair, I had somehow reclaimed more of the time I needed to focus and reprioritize the things that mattered in my life; especially, since I wasn’t directing all that energy and focus on my hair or appearance anymore.
When I came to terms with this, I was kind of embarrassed. Primarily, because I was the girl who could tell you she had life all figured out and show you the receipts, OKURR?!
After the first week, I quickly adjusted to my new look and started developing an appreciation for my natural hair. Since then I’ve finally nailed down a routine that keeps my kinky fro on point!
What happened to my wigs? Well, during the first week of this new journey, I put on a wig cap and tried one on…it slid right off. Tragic.
They also felt incredibly uncomfortable and scratchy because I was a fresh baldie, and the more I looked at the wigs, the more I wanted to burn them.
I even took some time to learn more about how wigs were mass produced and the labor involved…and what I unearthed had me bawling for the rest of the day. This will definitely be discussed in another article in the near future.
So, the next step was clear: I threw all my extensions and wigs away. In fact, I haven’t worn any hairpieces, wigs, or weaves since then.
I might rock braids again in the near future because they are a beautiful part way to express my Nigerian culture. Nevertheless, my afro does a pretty nifty job conveying a beauty that is innately and purely African.
Heck, I even sported my natural hair in my friend’s wedding as a bridesmaid! I’m out here, honey!!!
How would I rate the overall experience?
9 out of 10! Do note that I only took off a point because of the chilly tickle I would get in those early winter days. I love the cold, but my head was freezing until I finally invested in my first beanie!
For you adventurous souls, I would highly encourage everyone to rock it short (or shaved) at least once in their lifetime because here are some of the gems I gained:
- Humility and a deeper self-awareness
- Mental clarity and improved body positivity
- A greater appreciation for other facial features that emphasized my natural beauty like my eyes and smile
- Affirmations from peers who similarly shared how they wished to overcome societal pressure and obsessive-compulsive behavior over their hair
As for where I stand today — I’ve become more mindful about how I perceive myself.
Most importantly, I learned a greater lesson and that is the importance of letting go of things that are not life-and-death. A lesson that definitely got me through this pandemic. Talk about timing, huh?
I am not my hair, and I’ll never allow it to define my character again. Not at work, not at home, not in my relationships, nor anywhere else in this world.
In the end, a queen who recognizes her true value unleashes an inimitable strength to overcome all.
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