(Photo credit: newafrican)

I’m just going to come right out and say it: I used to hate the hot comb – with a passion. So much so, as a child I would hide from my mom every time it was time to wash and style my hair, hoping she’d give up trying to find me, and put off the process for one more day. But it never worked; she always found me. The process was inevitable. If I close my eyes, I can still hear the sizzle of the hot comb as it made contact with my hair. To this day, it still makes me shudder.

Then one day, when I was about 9 years old, I got my first relaxer. It was right before school picture day. I walked into school feeling like one of the models on the “Just For Me” relaxer boxes. Unfortunately, someone decided it would be a good idea to schedule pictures after gym class. Let’s just say, I did not look like one of the “Just For Me” girls in those pictures. All that hard work, gone to waste. Still, it marked a departure from the hot comb, so that was a win in my book.

My mom gave me touch-up relaxers at home every now and then. But since she was using “kiddie” relaxers which were milder, my hair was never super straight. But both of us were cool with that. When I was about 12 or 13, I got my first full-strength “adult” relaxer at a salon. Wow, what a difference! That’s also around the time I started doing my own hair. Did I know what I was doing? Hell no! Sometimes my hair looked a hot mess after using my cheap Gold ‘N Hot flat iron. But I made it work. And every 6 to 8 weeks, I was back in the stylist’s chair, ready for a touch-up.

But here’s the thing: I never enjoyed the process of getting relaxers. Okay, I guess no one really “enjoys” getting relaxers, but it was always extra stressful for me. The process took forever, it was uncomfortable, and I hated the smell. Then there was always the risk of getting scalp burns; the horror stories I’d heard about women’s hair falling out after a bad relaxer always led me to say a little prayer every time I sat in that stylist’s chair, breathing a sigh of relief when the process was over and my hair was still firmly planted into my scalp.

As I got older, I started to dread getting relaxers even more. My scalp also seemed to become less tolerant: no matter what, it always seemed to burn. The process was uncomfortable at best, and downright painful at worst. It got to a point where I asked myself, “why am I doing this?” I was enduring this discomfort because I was accustomed to the process and addicted to the outcome. I mean, this is what I’d been doing for years, and the only way I knew how to care for my hair was in its relaxed state. What was the alternative?

I started doing some thinking, and more importantly, some research.  One of my dearest friends had already taken the plunge, and she had nothing but good things to say about it. After about two years of being on the fence, I stopped getting relaxers. And it was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. Now I have complete control over what happens to my hair, and a better understanding of how to properly care for it. Does it take time? Of course. But more often than not, the process is only as long as you make it. And just like a garden, if you’re patient and tend to it as needed, it’ll flourish.

Click here to see photos of my transition.