When I saw this statement the first thing that came to mind was my hair. I hated it, LITERALLY. Always looking at other hair textures and envying them. Because of that, lived in weaves, had to get regular touch ups, never wanted to wear my hair. I never understood it, never understood why it had to be so curly, koily khinky, why it had to be so dry, never understood why it never grew.
I would cut it regularly, bleach it and talk bad things about it. I called it all sorts of dirty names, most of them were what persons called it while I was growing up... "Coconut trash, steel wool, Bird nest, sense fowl, kya, just to name a few. Those words are hateful, descending from slavery days. Even today, while I embark on this journey, my hair gets called all sorts of hateful names, I've stopped tho, I no longer hate it, I love it, and have come to understand it.
I now understand that the tenderness in my scalp was due to harsh combing, tugging and pulling, I've come to understand that combing from root to ends, will cause pain, I've come to understand that because of the tight curls, the natural oils that should be aiding in moisturising my hair, cant reach to the ends, so i have to add moisture. I now understand that my hair can grow, all it needs is TLC.
And for those persons who see my crazy kinks and coils and pass hateful remarks, I don't care, I know they don't understand my hair the way I do.