Naleighna Kai's Literary Cafe Magazine January 2018 New Year, New You | Page 18

“You gotta suffer to be beautiful, baby”
Naleighna Kai
My mother said those words to me right
after she put a small burn on my ear
while “pressing” my hair. I was about five
or six and had a love-hate relationship to
the ritual of sitting in a chair in front of
the stove, sizzling metal comb over an
open flame, and my mother at the helm
wielding both like a weapon. She didn’t
burn me often, but when she did, Jean
Woodson let loose with those words.
I became familiar with the scents of
Queen Bergamot and Sir Charles hair
grease (which I loved because it smelled
like candy).
Later, she would switch the press and
comb for what is now called, “Creamy
Crack”—that lye-based relaxer (some
mistakenly call it perm). Relaxers
straighten the natural coil of the hair;
perms put in the curl for straight hair.
Now, I would experience another type of
ritual. Hair parts with a rat tail comb,
Vaseline on the scalp and edges, gritting
my teeth against that slight burning
sensation after a few minutes in order to
get the best straightening possible.
As a grown woman, I continued relaxing
my hair until I became familiar with micro-
braids. One time, the braider was nearly three
hours late. I was so ticked off, that I tried
doing my own hair and kept at it until it felt
and looked right. By the time she arrived, I
was one-third of the way in and was like, “See
ya, chief. I’ve got this.” In between, though,
t