I'll Admit It

I hate to wash my hair. Yes, I said it. I HATE to wash my hair. It's a chore. And if you had my kind of hair, you would understand.

If that statement makes me 'gross' so be it.... I really could care less. I have VERY thick, kinky hair. Tight curls that get entangled from root to ends so easily, it's like trimming a hedge with toe clippers when I try and comb through it. It's a lot of hair. And as proud as I am of it, I also sometimes hate it.

I don't have smooth, flowing silky hair like those models on the TV commercials. You rarely see people with my kind of hair selling hair products... but they should as we're the ones that need it the most. Something to soften our hair, make it easier to handle and give it some shine as an added bonus (and yes I know those products exist for my hair type but it would be nice to see it advertised on TV once in a while... with a model like me to make it convincing).

The only place I feel I could get some good hair advice that pertained to my hair type is in a magazine geared towards women of color, like Jet or Ebony or a specific 'black' hair magazine. Alas, I have yet to find any of these types of magazines In Costa Rica... or maybe it's because I am not really looking. I have resigned myself to having unruly hair and I feel it is my destiny to deal with it. So hence, I HATE to wash or style it.

So when hubby's sister, here on vacation for 2 months, volunteered to style my hair for me, I was elated. But I was a bit on the fence as well. It would mean I would have to wash my hair... and make sure all the kinky tangles were gone... which takes a good couple of hours.

I need at least half a bottle of conditioner to smooth out my hair to get it soft enough to comb through. And I must do it in sections, which makes it easier than combing through my whole head at one time... plus it's less time consuming.

While getting ready to wash my hair, there is one obstacle I have to overcome, which is washing my hair while I have the little ones. You can't very well spend 2 hours in the shower while you have a baby and a toddler running around. I was lucky enough that the day I finally decided to let my sister in law style my hair, Princess was going on an outing with my mother in law and the baby was due for a nap. Plus with sister in law gone for a few hours too, I had more than enough time to wash my hair without feeling rushed so I could do a thorough job.

I had been chemically straightening my hair from the time I was 13 to the time I was around 23 or 24. In all that time, I had maybe missed a few months of appointments. But I was diligent and faithfully went every 2 weeks to get my hair washed and styled and every 6-8 weeks to get it 'permed out' and trimmed. At $40 every two weeks and about $60 every 8 weeks, my wallet was starting to squeal in agony.

The longer my hair got, the more money it cost and the longer it took to style. Going to the salon that often is supposed to be a treat, a luxury. How many women, average women, go to the salon every 2 weeks to get their hair professionally 'did'? Not that many. But I didn't look at it like a luxury or a treat. While sometimes it was a good time for some 'me time', it was beginning to turn into just another task I had to accomplish.... wash clothes, make beds, get hair done....

I would be in the salon for hours getting 'beautified'. And with beauty comes pain. The chemical they use literally burns your hair straight. Once the white creme was applied to my whole head, I would sit for a few minutes, waiting for the chemical to work it's magic, straightening my curls one kink at a time..... and furiously burning my scalp in the process (more so if you had recently been a little scratch happy). Of course, it didn't burn me to the point where it was too much to bear (lucky for me, I was not tender headed). As soon as the pain got unbearable, I would signal my hairdresser and she would come and wash my hair out with no delay. Ok, so the process wasn't always that painful but it was never pleasant.

But I loved the way my hair looked afterwards... so light it felt on my head, like cotton. It was flowy and shiny and straight... like a white girl. And after years of chemically processing my hair, I realized what I had been trying to achieve. I was trying to be someone that I was not. I started longing for for my natural 'curls' again. My natural kinky hair. But for years, I had been too afraid to go back, for fear of what might happen. I had read that going from chemical processed hair back to it's natural state would be hard... lots of hair falling out in the process.

But my wallet was begging me to stop with the salons. I also wanted to be in charge of my own hair. The expense was killing me and I knew I could benefit financially. But I also longed for the independence. I wanted to wash my own hair, style it and trim it. I wanted to be like those girls on TV. And for a while as I grew my hair out, and let my natural strands grow in, it was fun. I liked doing my own hair. I had followed a guide on how to go back to natural. It was in a magazine specifically geared towards women like me. It had advice on how to safely grow out the chemical and the many options we had while enduring this process. So I braided my hair and in between washes, would wear it curly and up in a ponytail.

After my hair fully grew out, I would wash it almost daily and comb through it, which was not too bad. But daily washes were beginning to wear on me. My hair, being like one huge bush, took the bulk of a whole day to dry naturally. I would pull it in a high, super tight ponytail and wear it almost dripping until the outsides dried. But once I let it out of the ponytail, the inside and near the scalp was still a bit damp. I also hated the way my super tight ponytails were eating away at the sides of my head. So I fell off the wagon, so to speak, and I would wait longer between washes, until I as going so long, washing my hair had become one big pain in the ass chore.

The first time I got the opportunity to have my hair straightened (without chemicals), I jumped at it. I needed a break from the ponytails and the bushy-ness. It was for my baby shower for Princess. My friends sister generously offered her services and took on the daunting task of giving me a good blowout. Armed with her trusty blow dryer and hot iron, she gave me a look I had not had for over 2 years.... long, straight locks.

She offered to do it again a few weeks later. This time, she washed and combed out my hair for me. And she spent an even longer time making my hair obey, lengthening each lock with her heating tools. I was so pleased with her end results.

So when my sister in law offered to blow dry and hot iron my hair flat, I so wanted to accept. I craved the ease of having straight hair... just getting up in the mornings and throwing it in an easy, loose ponytail or letting it flow free. I was tired of my hair. But I dreaded washing it.

Like I said before, it takes a couple of hours. And the process is not fun. But the end result is always nice.

After 2 days, yes, 2 days, the task was complete. We started later than anticipated after 5 pm. With crying and fighting kids, diaper changes, bathroom breaks, dinner break and consoling kids, we decided to take a break last night around 9 pm and pick up in the morning. Many man hours later, I had semi straight hair, but straight enough for me, and now I look forward to the ease of styling it in the morning.

Lets just hope that this time I don't let weeks go by before I wash my hair again. I know how much easier the process gets with frequent washes and conditioning. but it's so easy to fall off that damn wagon than it is to just stay on it. So I'll keep my fingers crossed that this time I can follow through.