Long Hair War

The following is a comment from one of my readers that I thought was too poignant to just remain in the comment section. It is today’s post. Please give her your feedback and let’s keep the dialogue going.

By Nicole “Nikki” Parker

Nicole Parker used to struggle with women hatin' on her for having long, fine hair. Through Christ, she has been set free!

Nicole Parker used to struggle with women hatin' on her for having long, fine hair. Through Christ, she has been set free!


My hair wars are sort of different, to an extent. I always had long hair. I have fine, thin hair that grows like wildflowers. I didn’t have confidence in my hair. Quite the opposite. Though my hair is fine, I permed (relaxed) it to fit in, and I cut it to make it less obvious that it’s long. I didn’t understand how my hair had anything to do with who I was and so in turn I felt if I walked in a room I should naturally apologize for my long hair, what most people would call “white girl hair.” After I got over the perm pressures about 10 years ago, my hair grew healthier and longer and I would get the same “OMG” and “How long and pretty your hair is” looks and comments. These comments made me feel uncomfortable because the tone wasn’t “You really have nice hair”; they were more like, “I wish I had your hair and you MUST think you’re all that.” So about five years ago for every summer thereafter I would cut my hair to my neck in a bob and that would keep the comments to a minimum except for the initial shock that I even had the nerve to cut off “all that pretty hair.” I never appreciated the hair God gave me because I wasn’t secure in who I was in Him.

I realized my insecurity had nothing to do with my hair, just how I felt about it and what I was trained to believe growing up: that hair somehow defines me and puts me in a typical stereotype of light skinned/long haired females have no depth and are superficial. That is the complete opposite of who I am, NOW, anyway, because people will have you thinking one thing about yourself so much, YOU start to believe it! But when God showed me I can’t take credit for anything, especially the length or grade of my hair, I seriously I had to get a grip and help other women realize that the outer appearance is not even worth mentioning if our hearts aren’t right before God. The battle continues because women are always looking at the next woman to compare themselves to, and it’s not necessary because our eyes should be on Christ alone and then and only then can we accept who we are and that our physical man, including hair, is just clay.

We represent Christ so I’m not suggesting we don’t take care of what He has given us. However, I am saying as women of God we should seek first Him and he’ll take care of everything else. He’ll teach us how to carry ourselves in modesty. He’ll teach us how to be sensitive to others who have not had the revelation yet that the inner man is far more valuable than the outer man. He’ll tell us through the Holy Spirit when we’re tripping and going too far or not far enough. He’s a God that is involved! So with that in mind I can walk around with all of my “long pretty hair” and not feel like apologizing but smiling, representing that the old stereotypes are dead to me because my Daddy told me to love what He created in me and every woman I see with locks, press and curl, fade, bob, waist length, shoulder length, long and flowing, tight curls, afros, etc. It doesn’t matter to Him; it’s our heart he’s after!

Cut the Locks

In 1992, I made the huge step to wear my hair in its God-given state. For years I had said I would lock my hair when I turned 60. I chose 60 because I figured I would be established in my career and would have great influence with those around me so no one would have the power to force me to change my hair. Well, I didn’t wait until 60. In 1992, I decided no more relaxers for me and cut my straightened hair until my natural coils formed a nicely cropped fade. It was cool, but I longed for the locks I saw the confident women in my African dance class and a black women’s academic conference at MIT wear. The way they moved and expressed ideas had to have something to do with the hair, I reasoned. It was as if the assurance of their bodies and minds had positioned itself on the top of their heads, and I wanted that type of assurance.

In May 1994, I got my hair twisted to begin the process of dreadlocks and my confidence followed, not confidence accepting the hair that God gave me, but confidence in my locks being “the best” or “the neatest I’ve ever seen,” as people constantly told me. I would smile and give a proper thank you, but inside I would be gloating, talking to myself, saying, “I know. I hear that all the time” or “My hair is beautiful, isn’t it?” To my knowledge, no one knew this ugliness was in my heart. No one even suspected it was there, except for God, of course. And in July 2001, He told me I had to cut away the ugliness, symbolized by cutting off my locks.

My initial objection to His request made me realize how deep my ugliness ran and let me know that I had to be obedient. “No, I’m going to be on HGTV so I can’t cut my hair,” I said aloud, and I heard the vanity of wanting to have fabulous hair when featured on my favorite network at that time. In an instant moment of spiritual sanity, I got the scissors, went to the mirror and cut my locks along with a stream of tears. My momentary sadness had turned to joy, knowing that I was pleasing God and on my way to healing from hair pride. I knew my journey was about complete when I felt led to lock my hair again in 2003, after two years of obedience to no professional haircuts. Since I was four, there was never a time when I didn’t have regular salon appointments. In those two years I learned that the salon contributed to my hair pride, and I needed to get healthy in heart before allowing a professional to style my hair. There’s so much more to this hair journey. Even now the story is still being written. I’m finished for now but still would love to hear your stories.

Copyright 2009 by Rhonda J. Smith