I grew up with long hair, had to cut it when I switched to a catholic highschool - boys weren’t allowed long hair if you were mixed race or black. For years I waited to grow it back. I moved to Jamaica for university and grew it all back, 18 inches in 2 and half years. I was harder than remembered and wore the styles I once loved but they no longer fit my adult face. I tried new looks and all the while I couldn’t settle myself. Pain of combing, twisting, knotting I couldn't settle.
So I picked a look and stuck to it, I liked it, kinda, but everyone loved it: twists. I grew it longer and more and more I could control it. Dirt from sports, sweat from the sun, water, salt & pool - I wasn’t happy like before, but everyone loved it and I thought I did too. I then locked it, I thought it was the right choice. For months it was… what I wanted, right?
But I stopped one day, and I found an unknown barber, and cut it all away, felt my scalp all sensitive, so naked, like before. This look suit me to me, I was happier? right?
But no one liked it like I did. Oh well, I was happier…
Adam, 24, Male, Trinidad