It was time to sleep and it was N’s first night at my place. I put my PJ’s on and brushed my teeth. I looked in the mirror and saw my hair. Panic was born! How am I gonna do this? I was wearing a curly wig and just started stressing! Should I take it off? Sleep with it? What is he going to think? I decided to sleep with the wig on, carefully placed my head on the pillow and prayed to god that my wig wouldn’t fall off!
Some of you might think: what the frizz Charlie?! You don’t have any hair? Noo honeys, I have hair. I have a lot of hair. A lot of frizzy afro hair! Because I don’t know if you know, but I am black. Not that my skin color matters. But it might help you understand my hair problems.
It’s not that I hate my hair or anything. My hair is awesome. If you want to, you can make it stand straight up, without even using products. Damp air can make it frizzy without actually making it wet. If you want to, you can transform my blow dried coupe to an afro with just one hand. And N’s favorite: the Troll look! Hair upright and frizzy.
You get the problem? Besides that, washing my hair is a big problem. It takes a lot of time and patience. Two things that I do not like spending on my hair. Also, I would really like to have long hair. Which I had when I was like 14 years old. Long black afro hair. Back then, I lived at home with my mommy who was my personal hairdresser. Every night she sat me down and put my whole head in the curly roller thingies. The only thing I had to do the next morning was getting those things out, comb through my hair with my fingers, shake my head and be fabulous all day!
But after a while, my hair wasn’t that fabulous anymore. It started falling out, breaking at the ends and a crooked hairdo was born. So, in a spontaneous mood I decided to cut my hair short. I was like: yeah why not? The scissors got to know my hair and I got the know the damage of them: short bob line, out of which my hair would never ever grow again.
Of course my hair grows. But it grows sooo damn slowly. Seriously. It drives me crazy! And the moments when it grows, it grows into some weird coupe again, making me running to the hairdresser and have a rendezvous with the scissors again.
Last year, I was tired of that ish. So, I went to the hairdresser and said: make me pretty. Result? Super short bob line with the back of my hair shaved. Yeah.. I was a bit bald back then. Note that I met N for the first time a couple of days later. So it wasnt that bad actually.
For those diehard Charlie in the City readers, you can probably remember my story about Curacao and my braids? That I spent 7 hours sitting on a chair while my aunt was braiding my hair? I love the look. So the months after that I kept braiding them, every time another look. I just loved it! It was so easy! Didn’t have to spent time on my hair. In the morning I just took the pantyhose off my head and shook my breads: fabulous all day. Till they went frizzy.
And now? No braids and My hair is relaxed. Not relaxed as in the opposite of stressed. Relaxed as in the chemicals we black women put in our hair to make it look sleek, straight and shiny. Frizz-free!! But it can burn your head though.. Crazy chemicals.
But why the wig?
I just love changing my hair! One day I’m rocking the long hair look, the other day my short bob. I also have a curly wig, ponytails with curls and waves, straight hair that I put in my hair. It’s so much fun! Every time another look and that in just a couple of seconds.
How I woke up after sleeping with my wig on? It was still on my head! He didn’t even notice it was a wig. Another date night at my place, I forgot to store some of my hairpieces. There I was, talking to a boy a really like, with a hairpiece looking at me from the dresser. I was totally freaking out and hoping he wouldn’t think I’m a freak. Later he told me that he saw the hairpiece, but didn’t even care. Thank god! He still doesn’t and that’s why you can find my hairpieces in the livingroom sometimes. hihihi I think he’s just used to it.
ps. I was inspired by listening to India.Ari´s ´I am not my hair´
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