Dear curly-haired daughter,

I want you to love every strand of your hair. I want you to embrace it’s wildness and not be afraid of who sees it. I want you to be able to look into the mirror and say, “wow, I love the way I look because God made this way on purpose for a purpose.” I want you to ignore any voices to tell you to straighten it all the time. Don’t hide who you are because sadly mommy did for a very long time.

I grew up in a culture where straight hair was considered beautiful. Where women would spend their weekends sitting for hours in a salon, flipping through magazines while surrounded by the smell your hair makes when heat hits it. Burnt and crispy. “You’re next after these two,” she’d say. I’d wash it, get a roller set, sit under the hairdryer and then let her transform every ringlet into silky smoothness. I felt beautiful. Completely unlike myself and alot like the women I’d see in magazines and movies. When it was time for a wash, I’d dread every minute of it. I already knew that if I didn’t have it in some sort of tied back hair do, someone would soon comment, “you need to go to the salon,” “it’s too crazy,” or “you need to tie that ‘fro of yours,” all in Spanish of course. Then I’d go back to feeling insecure.  I don’t blame them though, it’s just the way they grew up too.

This, baby girl, does not have to be your story. I will never tell you the things I was told. I hope you grow up confident in all that God made you to be. Curls untamed and all. Each strand counted by God. Every hair twirled by His fingers. Because, my girl, to me and to our Creator, you are perfect.