Like the first homesteaders taming the Old West, growing up with curly hair in the High Plains region of America certainly challenged my ability to domesticate my locks. Plenty of wind and a semi-arid climate created the perfect frizz-zone to dry out my loose waves and curls! Liberating my curly hair has been a life-long process, similar to teaching a child to walk.
At first, someone held my hand. As the youngest of four daughters who all who have curly hair, I was a living dress-up doll. Barrettes, ribbons, and headbands decorated my head! My mother braided my hair or pulled my tresses into pigtails and ponytails. Mom would sometimes curl my hair around her fingers, leaving soft, playful ringlets to frame my innocent face! On other occasions, my curls were topped off with a hat.
This was a great arrangement for me until the day Mom scratched my eye and burned my forehead while curling my bangs for school pictures! I think it was my mom’s way of saying it was time to take a few steps on my own.
When I started to walk unassisted, my curls were frequently brushed, which didn’t look so bad until puberty hit! Hormones created more havoc with my hair than a wild fire blazing across the prairie! Like a lot of women, I grieve the loss of the beautiful coloring, sheen, and smooth texture. My curls turned coarse, dark, and difficult, much like a teenager’s attitude! My curls still have a tendency to throw tantrums!
Ponytails weren’t a desirable option anymore after a youth group leader asked me to tell him what’s under a pony’s tail. Instead, I experimented with perms, crimping, and straightening my hair, as well as bleaching and coloring! I took new strides with short hair and asymmetrical cuts, anything to see what style would be most flattering, easiest maintenance, and low cost!
Somewhere along the walking path, curls went from adorable and cute to unprofessional and undesirable. Job interviews were conducted with straight hair or sleek styles. I can count on one hand the number of men who have complimented my curly hair. I can count on one finger the number of times a man used the actual words “I love your curly hair!” Women possess a much better record of admiration! However, I never really achieved my own curl happiness…until Ouidad. For the first time, I’m seeing them as bold and beautiful!
One of my sisters discovered Ouidad. She introduced the products to my mom and me. Wow, what a difference! As a spiritual person, I felt God was encouraging me to embrace the gift of curly hair rather than fight what He gave me. It was consuming too much time and energy to be someone I wasn’t born to be. Song of Solomon 7:5 reads “Your head crowns you like Mount Carmel. Your hair is like royal tapestry; the king is held captive by its tresses.” I wanted to improve my gait by learning to cherish my own royal tapestry!
While researching Ouidad and her products, I discovered she faced many challenges to be the “Queen of Curl.” Four banks rejected her idea to help curly haired people learn to properly care for their hair. For years, I told my hairdressers curly hair shouldn’t be cut the same way as straight hair, but they laughed at me the same way the banks laughed at Ouidad!
I am so appreciative Ouidad did not take “No” for an answer. I admire her courage in the face of adversity and opposition. I wish I had the opportunity to meet her! Ouidad’s site is teaching me to embrace the beauty of my curls, and her products are helping with the transition, especially since the nearest certified salon is 800 miles away! Ouidad’s encouraging spirit nurtures curls from the inside out! I am so thankful she never gave up on her dream! She’s been a blessing to me and many others!
Through the years, God was weaving a unique tapestry that finally brought me to Ouidad, a courageous woman who could help me learn to love my locks! As my mom created finger-ringlets to crown my head, I don’t think she fully realized the power she possessed to liberate curly hair! Little did I know throughout my journey, I had everything I needed to free my curls — right in my own hands.
People immigrate to America for liberty, freedom, and the power of choice. In the case of my curls, liberty is freedom from physical restraint! One of my favorite photos with curly hair was a reenactment of Lady Liberty, a national symbol of the freedom we seek. Isn’t that interesting? I think it was meant to be. Free YOUR curls!
Chelsie Donner
