I have curly hair.
When I was a baby my hair sat in pretty black ringlets all over my head, often held out of my face with a large bow.
However, because my mother lacked the thick curly hair her child was blessed with, she didn’t know how to take care of it, much less teach me.
Through the years that hair became a frizzy mess I was often teased for in elementary school all the way up to high school.
I tried everything I could to tame it from high ponytails to gel to blow-drying it straight.
It wasn’t until high school that I discovered the more expensive flat irons and began to straighten my hair every single wash.
Because of all of the heat treatment to my hair, those ringlets are no more and when I wear my hair in its natural state it’s more of a soft wave.
I won’t lie, often people prefer my curly hair to my straight but I never feel quite right. I don’t feel put together.
Once Berit was born, Brett and I knew her hair would be curly. With two curly-headed parents there was no way it wasn’t going to happen.
As her hair has grown it’s developed the most gorgeous curls on the nape of her neck and this perfect swoosh right on the top.
Her hair is gorgeous and that’s not me being bias, it’s just the facts.
A few months ago I went an entire month without using any heat tools and tried to really embrace my curly hair.
I want Nana to understand that her hair is beautiful and she should love it because it will be something other women envy.
It’s difficult to really embrace what makes us special and it’s hard to teach that to our children when we ourselves struggle to do so.
In college I spray tanned every other week because I thought that tan look was going to make me more attractive when in reality I looked like I was covered in Cheeto dust.
It was a mess!
Lately, I catch myself critiquing my body in the mirror when I get dressed in the morning.
I wish to be taller.
I wish I had clearer skin.
I wish my skin wasn’t so fair you could see every hair follicle on my legs.
I wished those things until a tiny human smooshed her face in-between my knees to get right up to the full-length mirror.
There, she smashed her face into it, scratching her belly, lifting her shirt, and turning this way and that.
She was copying her mommy.
What a wake up call!
It devastates me to think she sees herself as anything less than the absolutely breathtaking creation God blessed her to be.
And that’s also not bias, that’s a fact.
But if I don’t view myself as important, special, and pleasing in God’s sight, how will she?
Little eyes were watching once again and I’m sure that won’t change over the years.
I’m still going to straighten my hair, that’s how I prefer to wear it, however I will remember that my curly hair is something to be embraced because it allows me to match my beautiful little girl.
So, as I go into this next year with her, I’ll try to do a little less mirror staring and lot more life enjoying.
Sunscreen and frizzy hair included.
Courtney Warren is a contributing writer with The Bolivar Commercial. She may be contacted at email@example.com.