The journey to embrace my natural curly hair

By Lia Le

Born and raised in Vietnam to two traditional, upper middle class Vietnamese parents, my childhood was a wonderful amalgamation of contrasting cultural communities between my country’s beautiful culture and the experience from going to international school. Being in a homogeneous environment generally assures my sense of cultural identity, but one thing that got on my nerves for some time to come to embrace was my absurd curly, frizzy hair.

I grew up with a stereotypical silky straight hair and tricked myself into thinking I'd always be that way. However, nature had to be an ass and once the puberty struck, my once “socially acceptable” (the aunties from my old neighborhood said so) straight fine hair suddenly turned into a thick mop of frizzy hair. At this phase, I didn’t even know I had curly hair. Hence my mom and I treated my hair as one would treat straight hair: by brushing it all the time, which expectedly, resulted in a fluffy cloud that I would just end up tying in a tight ponytail or a bun.

Me vibing as a kid

When my hair changed, I had been ridiculed every once in a while. I was called The Weeknd, Michael Jackson, and even a broom. I then associated my curly hair with being unappealing, tacky and unprofessional. This was actually due more to the fact that I had never seen any Asian women portrayed on media with the feature of curly hair. At the point when I Googled "naturally curly Asian hair," the algorithm mostly showed curls that had been created by a hot tool or made by perms. It didn't help that I had a comparative encounter seeing item marks; it was uncommon to find any portrayal of Asian women in curl products, as though it wouldn’t add up to my already existing insecurity, when my parents, two siblings, and everyone in my extended family had jet black straight hair. There I was, wondering if I had any genetic mutation: oddly thick, frizzy, curly hair and pale skin being aesthetics anomalies from the rest of my family.

My relatives likewise struggled understanding my texture and how to make it straighter — something I internalized as a type of body shaming. Other times, they would give me backhanded compliments that keeping my natural hair would make me look outstanding.

These double standards befuddled my concept of beauty. For quite a while, I forgot about the thought that my naturally curly hair was something of significant worth. 

Me in middle school with my frizzy hair

It wasn't until almost a year ago that I asked myself why I wasn't letting my hair flourish in its natural state. From the outset, I wavered to offer the genuine response: that I wasn't permitting my hair to be completely curly in light of the fact that I was attempting to tame it as much as possible. I asserted I was content with what I was doing, yet at the time that I lied to myself, I understood that I was a contributor to the issue, as well.

I was folding to external pressures, and endeavoring to tame my curls dependent on standards shaped by others.

Concerned about my internal observations, I started researching on how to take care of my curly hair properly. As soon as I discovered, it's significantly more complicated than it appears; what works for one may not work for the others. Variables like hair porosity (capacity to ingest and hold moisture), thickness, length or tightness of the wavy 'S' circle of a hair strand, request of item application, and condition all affect how my curls look. Simultaneously, I discovered web-based media to be a staggering asset, as I ran over a curl adoring society among individuals that once were or are on the same journey to discover self-love. I started reading articles about other Asian women with wavy hair and got a repetitive subject in my exploration: There's perpetual strain to change naturally curly hair, and insufficient help to allow it to thrive.

Even in the wake of embracing my hair, I actually feel uncomfortable with these clashing double standards at times, however I can let out a tiny sigh of relief realizing that there are others out there who share my sentiments. Because of investing more time embracing my natural texture, I’ve become more in love with my hair than ever. It even became one of my senses of self and helped me overcome many challenges in life, one example was my highschool student council’s election speech as I put my hair as the hook for the moral of my story. My curls and frizzes are beautiful and they are part of who I am.

Me embracing my hair now

While the journey to accept and love my natural hair has been sentimental and overwhelming on occasion, it has never felt desolate. The quantity of resources accessible is rich, and the network of people ready to help and share is generous. Following the journey of other women both online and in person has helped me to discover the certainty to let with my wild, rowdy hair shine through and confidently wear it like a most loved adornment.

For women, and particularly ones who have had a tough time finding self-confidence through their hair, our hair is in excess of a style—it's a presentation of self-regard in a world that has now and then instructed us to dislike ourselves. It's attached to our culture, legacy, and history that is always as beautiful as we are.