black woman mid-age looking back on her childhood  memories  about hair wounds

The Childhood Wound I Carried for 50 Years: My Sisterlocks Journey

Short Hair, Clothespins, and the Wound I Carried

Some hair memories do not leave quickly.

They sit quietly in the heart.

They show up years later when you look in the mirror, when your hair starts changing, when your Sisterlocks feel thinner than they used to, or when someone says something that touches an old tender place.

That is why this story matters.

It is not just about short hair. It is not just about clothespins. It is about the way one childhood moment can follow a woman for decades and shape how she sees her beauty, her crown, and even her worth.

When a Little Girl Just Wants to Feel Beautiful

As a little girl growing up in Compton, California, René wanted long hair.

Not because she understood beauty standards. Not because she had language for self-image. She was just a child who wanted to look in the mirror and feel pretty.

Her hair was short, and to her little-girl heart, short hair felt exposed. It made her feel different. So she did what children often do when they are longing for something they cannot explain.

She used her imagination.

René clipped clothespins to the ends of her hair because, in her mind, those clothespins gave her length. They gave her movement. They gave her a way to feel closer to the beauty she thought she was missing.

That may sound simple, but it was tender.

She was not trying to be funny.

She was trying to feel beautiful.

The Comment That Became a Wound

One day, René was teased by a grown woman — her friend’s mother.

That matters.

When children tease one another, it can hurt. But when an adult laughs at a child’s tender place, the wound can go deeper because the child may receive it as truth.

René may not remember every word the woman said, but she remembers the feeling: embarrassment, shame, and that quiet question so many little girls carry when they are made to feel less than:

What is wrong with me?

That moment became more than teasing. It became a memory, a tender place, and a wound she carried longer than anyone knew.

Hair Trauma Is Not Just About Hair

For many Black women, hair has never been “just hair.”

Hair can be connected to:

  • Identity
  • Womanhood
  • Confidence
  • Acceptance
  • Softness
  • Belonging
  • The desire to be admired instead of criticized

That is why a comment about hair can stay with a woman for years. Sometimes the pain is not only about the hair itself. It is about what she believed the hair meant.

For René, short hair became tangled with the fear of not being beautiful, feminine, accepted, or seen.

And Queen, maybe you know that feeling too.

Your story may not include clothespins. It may include a hot comb, a rough stylist, a teasing comment, or someone treating your hair like a burden. Or maybe your hair wound came later in life when your Sisterlocks started thinning, your edges changed, your hair became gray, or your crown no longer looked the way it once did.

You Are Not Alone

This is not just one woman’s story. Research shows that hair discrimination and hair-based beauty pressure often begin early for Black girls.

CROWN research reports that 53% of Black mothers say their daughters have experienced racial discrimination based on hairstyles as early as age five, and 86% of Black children who experience hair discrimination have already experienced it by age twelve.

Dove’s research also found that 66% of Black girls in majority-white schools report experiencing hair discrimination, and 81% of Black girls in those environments say they sometimes wish their hair were straight.

Let that settle for a moment.

When a little girl wishes her hair were different, she may not simply be wishing for a hairstyle. She may be longing for acceptance, safety, and the freedom to feel beautiful without defending the way God made her.

Why This Matters for Women Over 45

For the women I serve — women 45 and up, women with Sisterlocks, women watching their crowns change with age — this conversation becomes even more personal.

By midlife, many women are carrying old hair memories while also navigating new changes:

  • Thinning Sisterlocks
  • Dryness
  • Shedding
  • Gray hair
  • Scalp sensitivity
  • Hormonal changes
  • A changing relationship with beauty

DermNet notes that around 40% of women show signs of hair loss by age 50.

So if your crown is changing, you are not strange. You are not less beautiful. Your hair may be asking for a different kind of care, but your worth has not changed.

And representation matters too. AARP reported that nearly two in three women 50-plus feel they are not adequately depicted in the media.

That matters because when you do not see women who look like you represented with beauty, elegance, fullness, joy, and confidence, it can quietly make you wonder where you fit.

But hear this clearly:

Your beauty is not limited to youth, length, thickness, dark hair, or the version of yourself you used to be.

Your beauty has seasons.

And this season still counts.

The Wound Does Not Get the Final Word

The little girl from Compton grew up.

Over time, God began to show René that her beauty was never measured by inches of hair. Her worth was not hidden in length. Her value was not determined by texture, thickness, fullness, or someone else’s approval.

And isn’t that just like God?

He can take the place that once made you feel ashamed and turn it into wisdom, compassion, and healing.

The story that once brought René shame became part of her testimony. It helped her understand the woman who is quietly grieving her hair, wondering if there is still hope for her crown, or trying to love herself through a season of change.

A Gentle Truth for Your Crown

Queen, your crown is not a mistake.

Your beauty is not up for debate.

Your worth is not waiting for your hair to grow longer, thicker, fuller, darker, or younger-looking.

You can care for your hair from a place of love, not shame. You can learn your hair again. You can change your routine. You can grieve what your crown has been through and still believe restoration is possible.

Healing begins when you stop judging the little girl who remembers and begin telling her the truth:

Baby girl, you were beautiful even then.

And Queen, so were you.

Why Community Matters

When a woman is dealing with dryness, thinning, gray Sisterlocks, scalp changes, or old hair wounds, she does not just need information.

She needs a safe place to exhale.

That is what I want Beautiful Locks Club to be.

Inside the Queendom, you are invited into a space where you can feel:

  • Supported while learning how to care for your Sisterlocks with confidence
  • Seen as a woman whose crown journey truly matters
  • Heard when you have questions, concerns, or tender emotions around your hair
  • Validated in the beauty, pain, and history you may carry
  • Connected to women walking through similar seasons
  • Encouraged to keep choosing care, consistency, and joy
  • Reminded that your next season of beauty is still worth celebrating

This is not just about products or routines.

This is about having a place where your crown is understood, your questions are welcome, and your journey is honored.

So if this story touched a tender place in you, I invite you to join us inside Beautiful Locks Club.

Come into the room where your crown is not judged, your healing is supported, and your next season of beauty is celebrated.

Queen, you do not have to figure this out alone.

Your crown is worthy of care. Your beauty is not up for debate. And there is a seat waiting for you inside the Queendom.

Come take your seat in the Queendom. Your crown belongs in a room where it is honored.

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