Hair Journey

My weekly visits to the hair salon started in 1992 when my daughter, Evelyn, left home to attend a boarding academy. It was finally my time to be pampered. I loved having my head massaged while my hair was being washed. I loved sitting under the dryer while reading or crocheting. The curling and styling were the icing on the cake.

Once every six weeks my hair was relaxed (permed) and cut. My weekly social hour was delightful. I slept on a satin pillowcase and with a satin hair bonnet on my head to preserve my “do.” I could not swim nor enjoy water aerobics because my hair would get wet. I could not exercise outside when the humidity was too high.

My small fan diverted any steam on the stove while cooking. Looking good on the weekend was worth any inconvenience. When I moved to Atlanta, Georgia, USA, in 2012, it took longer to find a hair stylist than it did to find physicians. I did not like the place, the price, the parking, the way my hair looked, or how long the appointment took.

Finally, after eight months and seven different hair stylists, a salon ten minutes from my home was recommended, and I was very pleased for several years.

Then the COVID-19 pandemic came, and the salon closed. I had not washed my own hair in over thirty years and had no idea where to start.

This was the perfect time to transition from straightened hair to natural hair. When I saw a style I liked on an unknown lady, I had no shame in asking what products she used. I found cute natural styles on Google, watched many “how-to” natural hair videos, and purchased many of the products they recommended. My cabinet looked like a mini beauty supply store. Over time I learned that just because the styles, videos, and products looked amazing on others did not mean that they would look amazing on me.

After two years of trying to figure it all out, the new me emerged, and now I can finally swim, cook, exercise outside, and walk in the rain with confidence. I feel free. The bonus is that my hair maintenance budget has dropped 75 percent.

This life-changing realization reminded me that the devil knows what resonates with each of us. He knows our gods and our weaknesses.

May we not be so consumed with the cares of this world that we forget to keep our hearts, minds, and souls stayed on our Savior.

Shirley Sain Fordham