I definitely want to talk about married life with my white husband and how that’s effected my hair journey. Noah is also a curly, in his own Caucasian way, but he’s learned a lot about black hair. While we dated he watched in utter fascination while I stood in the bathroom carefully flat-ironing my hair, burning my ears and fingers. When I ran my fingers through his hair and commented on his curly “kitchen,” he was delighted to learn such an interesting new word for the nape of his neck.
|Noah and me while dating|
One evening when I picked my hair out into the most righteous afro and wore it around the apartment, Noah saw it and told me how gorgeous I was. “You should wear that ALL the time.” Needless to say, I looked at him like he was crazy. I explained to him that black women don’t walk around like that in public.
Why not? he asked.
I was forced to give him an answer that made sense. I couldn’t find one. Why not, indeed. Black women don’t go out and about natural. To say those words out loud were just ridiculous. He told me so. I tried to explain it the best I could. But in the end, I tried it out. It was a wild experience taking such a boss fro into the world.
Noah was there during my Big Chop, he drove while I sat in the passenger’s seat sobbing about my “loss.” He was perplexed but supportive. He watched the Chris Rock documentary “Good Hair” with me and he learned what black hair industry was really like. He has made room for all of my hair concoctions on the bathroom counter. He’s excited at the prospect of raising some curly headed kids with me.
Through teaching him so much about this culture, I’ve learned a lot about myself. It’s outsider, a white man, who has taught me about loving my natural black self. The irony was not lost on him either 🙂
|Our wedding 2009|