After accepting a position at one of the top law firms in the nation straight out of Harvard Law School, I felt major pressure to blend in with my white colleagues. I was working long hours and felt like I needed to be a younger version of the ultra beautiful, super smart, and sophisticated Claire Huxtable (from “The Cosby Show”) in order to truly be accepted by my white co-workers. Had I been practicing law for fifteen years and gained a strong reputation by this point, I might have felt more at ease with my decision to wear my hair natural. Unfortunately, there were only two black women in my department and I was one of them. I wasn’t exactly looking to complicate matters by putting on my dashiki and rocking Bantu knots to my first client meeting.
I knew I needed to let go and stop wearing a wig — but after two years of waking up every morning and putting one on, I couldn’t stand the sight of myself without my synthetic tresses. Day in and day out, I would constantly make excuses to myself as to why I couldn’t wear my natural hair uncovered: My hair isn’t long enough. I don’t know what products to use. It only takes me five minutes to get ready in the morning. My colleagues would talk about me. My boyfriend would dump me. No one would ever find me attractive.
Chris-Tia’s wig
To make matters worse, I had gotten used to having long silky, straight hair — which drew compliments daily. After getting a perm for twenty-plus years, I didn’t know the first thing about caring for my natural texture. I had no clue what products or styling tools to use or how to work with the tight, spongy curls sitting atop my head. Learning to do my hair was like teaching myself Swahili. I simply didn’t know where to begin.
Then there was the issue of seeing the reactions of my friends and co-workers who would now know that I had been wearing some kind of extensions for the past two years. While my hair had grown quite long, it wasn’t silky or straight. Instead, it looked dry and dull — like week-old cotton candy, because I had kept it covered for so long.
In addition to my apprehension over my dramatic change in appearance and the styling difficulties that came along with it, for the first time in my life, I also had to deal with the daily challenge of seeking a new job after my boss informed me that my work fell quite short of meeting my department’s expectations. Needless to say, wearing a wig had taken a major toll on my self-esteem, and was affecting me on many levels, both personally and professionally.
Ironic, isn’t it? It turned out that wearing a wig had made very little difference after all — and hadn’t spared me from being told that I didn’t have a future with my firm. After putting so much time and effort into appeasing my conservative white colleagues, it hadn’t truly helped or changed anything. In hindsight, I should have pulled a Jill Scott or Erykah Badu on my very first day at my law firm and spent the countless hours I had invested worrying about my appearance into focusing on my job performance. If only I had known and appreciated then how truly beautiful my own, natural hair is – it would have saved me so much heartache, expense, and wasted energy. I walked away from the firm with my pride wounded, however, much more importantly, with the realization that my own lack of confidence and esteem lay at the heart of my failure. This truth was much more painful than the simple disappointment of coming close to being fired.
After several months of working tirelessly to find a new position, God stepped in and blessed me with a new job, where I felt like I could not only be myself, but that I also had the potential to become a tremendous asset to the firm’s already outstanding talent. After gladly accepting the job, I was amazed at how comfortable I was with my decision to wear my hair natural on the very first day. Surprisingly enough, I was given more opportunities and received better mentoring than I did at my first firm. Due to the change in professional atmosphere, I was finally able to prove my talent and dedication to my work. This was a welcome change from my first law firm, where I fought so desperately to accommodate society’s unattainable beauty standard for black women (and not my own).
The more I loved and accepted my natural hair, the more people applauded my work and complimented me. This sense of confidence and pride in my appearance had a profound effect on every aspect of my world. I began to realize that in the past, the only thing truly preventing me from being happy and fulfilling every aspect of my dream was merely my conception of myself. Once I realized that I didn’t need to keep buying into the unhealthy and consuming expectation of appearance, my own job performance started to thrive. Today, I don’t think twice about wearing my hair natural and have finally come to fully appreciate the beauty and uniqueness of my kinky mane. When I put on my favorite suit and walk into a client meeting, I know it doesn’t matter how I wear my hair. My opinions will be respected and heard. My relationships with my colleagues, both black and white, have never been better. And, strangely enough, some of our most interesting conversations have been about the uniqueness and beauty of black hair.
My natural journey has taught me many lessons — but most importantly, that we, as black woman, must embrace our unique differences and traits and no longer be ashamed of who we truly are. It has taken me close to twenty-five years to accept my hair for what it really is, but now, I can now finally say, THANK GOD I’M NATURAL!
Chris-Tia Donaldson, a Detroit native who currently lives in Chicago, is author of the book “Thank God I’m Natural,” which comes highly recommended by stylists and beauty bloggers. She was recently interviewed on Chicago station WGN and will be holding a book signing on November 1 from 2 to 4 p.m. at the AfriWare book store in Oak Park, Illinois. For more information, check http://thankgodimnatural.wordpress.com/
