Why returning to cornrows, coils, and a relationship with our natural hair is an act of power.

For generations, Black women have carried the weight of impossible beauty standards—straight hair, long hair, “tamed” hair—images that never reflected who we naturally are. But today, something powerful is happening. Across communities, workplaces, runways, and social media, Black women are quietly and boldly rewriting the story of what beauty means.

We are returning to ourselves.

The world doesn’t always understand it, but cornrows, twist-outs, bantu knots, afros, and locs aren’t “just hairstyles.” They are a historical language. A cultural archive. A living, breathing connection to our roots—literally and spiritually.

And we are learning, once again, to honour that connection.

Cornrows Are More Than a Style — They Are a Symbol

Cornrows existed long before colonization, long before forced assimilation, long before identity was policed. They told stories. They reflected tribes. They signaled status. They mapped escape routes for enslaved people. They represented a level of artistry and dignity that no other hairstyle can replicate.

When Black women return to cornrows, we are not going backwards.
We are going back home.

Cornrows remind us that our hair is meant to be braided close to the scalp, nurtured, protected, and celebrated—not hidden away because the world does not understand its greatness.

Wigs Should Be a Choice — Not a Dependence

There is nothing wrong with wigs. They can be fun, creative, protective, and convenient. But they should never replace our relationship with our own hair.

Some Black women have never felt what their hair feels like unmasked.
Some have never been taught how to care for it.
Some carry childhood memories of pain, criticism, and shame connected to their texture.

Rewriting the narrative means unlearning that shame.

It means knowing that the hair growing from our scalp is worthy of care—not because society approves, but because we deserve that intimacy with ourselves.

Returning to Our Natural Hair Is Returning to Our Confidence

When a Black woman grows her natural hair, she is doing more than nourishing strands:

She is healing old wounds.
She is reclaiming her identity.
She is challenging European beauty standards quietly—but firmly.
She is telling the world, “I belong to myself first.”

This movement is not about forcing natural hair onto every Black woman.
It is about encouraging us to build a relationship with our roots—long before we cover them with a wig.

To know what our curls like.
To understand moisture.
To honour protective styling.
To see our hair not as a burden, but as a birthright.

The New Beauty Standard: Authenticity

The most revolutionary thing about this moment is that Black women are creating new standards instead of chasing old ones.

We are saying:

• Beauty does not equal straight.

• Professional does not equal “flat-ironed.”

• Elegant does not equal “eurocentric.”

• Belonging does not require assimilation.

Black women are stepping into boardrooms with cornrows.
Graduating with twist-outs.
Getting married with natural buns.
Showing up at conferences with locs crowned in gold.

This is what rewriting beauty looks like—choosing the version of ourselves that feels most honest, most joyful, most powerful.

Why We Must Keep Cultivating Our Natural Hair

A relationship with our natural hair is more than maintenance—it is a cultural responsibility.

Because when our daughters see us loving our coils, they learn to love theirs.
When they see us wearing braids proudly, they understand that braids are not “childish”—they are royal.
When they see us moisturize, deep-condition, braid, twist, and honour our hair, they learn that care is not weakness—care is power.

Our hair is a garden.
And every garden must be tended.

The Future: A World Where Black Hair Needs No Apology

We are not trying to choose between wigs and natural hair.
We are choosing to reclaim what belongs to us, without shame.

Black women are rewriting beauty in real time:

By returning to cornrows.
By nurturing our natural texture.
By building ritual, not resentment, around our hair.
By standing in the fullness of who we are—unmasked, unfiltered, unapologetic.

This is more than a trend.
It is a return to self.
A return to heritage.
A return to belonging.

And it is beautiful.