It was very painful combing my hair. My grand-uncle was a Pentecostal bishop, and he was very strict: our hair couldn't be permed or straightened. So I just cut it all off.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
I used to have quite long hair, and I decided that I wanted to get it cut. I'd never met the person who did it, and she cut it into some kind of dreadful mullet. It looked like a triangle on my head. The other kids were merciless.
I shaved my head about 15 years ago and the first time I shaved it, I started running my hand through my hair and it was very therapeutic.
Whether or not cutting my hair was the right decision, it empowered me.
I can't imagine going back to long hair. Cutting it was the greatest thing I ever did.
I grew up in a very strict Pentecostal household.
When I was a teenager, I was really into hair; I dyed it different colours and had loads of haircuts. I shaved my head when I was 17 - it was pretty radical!
I was getting a little bored with my hair. It's kind of a symbolic thing, just getting rid of the past, moving forward. It's amazing what a reaction you get when you cut your hair.
In my college days, I went wild with my hair. I dyed it every color in the book and, quite naturally, my hair would break off from all the damage. When our hair breaks off, of course, there's only one thing to do - braid it up. I wore braids for a while and would always feel like I just never knew what to do with my hair.
When I was at Babbo, I was covered in scars and scabs and burned bits - melted hair, ribbed burns I got reaching across the top of a hot skillet... I sliced off the tip of my finger. I cleaved my forehead - a deep, ugly wound. Luckily, it regenerated.
My worst hair experience was when I was trying to relax my hair and my grandmother did it. It went all straight and I looked like a black Bee Gee.