Black People & Their Weird Obsession With Long Hair Traumatized Me

Out of all my childhood memories, the one that I remember with the most distinction was how various hands were always in my waist-length hair. Ten fingers belonging to strange individuals, whether young, old, male or female were grabbing at what they considered to be a little black girl’s pride and joy.

I never understood the logic in it, because touching someone else’s hair doesn’t grow your own. My hair does not function as a magic lamp!

My mother actually didn’t deter anyone from admiring my crown, as my long hair oddly served as a reflection of her mothering skills and her abilities to nurture my hair so that it grew as long as hers. Although my shy little self was extremely uncomfortable with random adults gushing over me in such a way, she smiled and accepted any compliments meant for me as if I was a prized doll, not a human being.

I was a tiny petite child with long locks, and in our West Indian culture being fat or having short hair, or even having a combination of both, was considered to be an abomination. So she utilized every moment possible to bask in the glory of what she considered to be an accomplishment through the words of others.

Looking back, sometimes there was a negative connotation to the compliments and uncalled-for hair grabs I…