As fluffy and fun and fabulous as my hair might appear to be (and it is all of those things), I’m not a poodle.
I’m totally used to the curious looks. I don’t even mind the longing stares. I’m even willing to stop what I’m doing and answer a few well-meaning questions about it. But in general, I draw the line at touching. Because as fluffy and fun and fabulous as my hair might appear to be (and it is all of those things), I’m not a poodle. I don’t enjoy being petted. And it happens more often than you might think.
My hair was chemically straightened for 20 years of my life. During that time, I don’t remember anyone besides members of my family or my hairdresser expressing even a passing interest in touching my hair. Nine years ago, I decided to shun hair-straightening chemicals and go natural, and everything changed for me. My once thin and limp hair grew thick and strong, and kinky little coils began to appear… Read the rest here.