What Losing All of My Hair Taught Me About Black Womanhood

A month ago, I had one of the biggest scares of my life. As I was sitting in my room, getting ready for bed I had decided to take my hair out and piece by piece it began falling from my scalp, into my hands with ease. Handful after handful, I was losing my curls and gaining fear of the unknown. I had no idea what was happening nor why.

This wasn't dead hair or buildup from braids, I know what that looks like... but this was strand after strand of the healthy, curly locks I had been tending to for the past two years coming out in front of my eyes with no reasonable explanation why. As each minute, which seems like hours, passed by, I kept reassuring myself not to cry, holding back the tears as thoughts of chronic illness and death crossed my mind.

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