I love to tell people that when I was a toddler my hair looked like an afro. I feel like it says a lot about who I was as a person, and probably says a lot more about who I am now. And while we all laugh, I cant help but feel insecure about my hair sometimes.

Curly hair is difficult to live with. It wasn't until I was 12 that I began to style it all on my own, and now, at almost 20, I have a lot more bad hair days than good hair days. I use about three different products after I shower to maintain my curls, and living in Florida makes it more difficult since there is nothing curly hair fears more than 80% humidity.

My whole life, I dreamed of having straight hair. I saw all the other girls in my class run their hands through their hair without risking their fingers getting stuck, they could wear their hair down and not worry about frizz, and whenever they wore it in a ponytail, no one complained about not being able to see the board in front of them. Chances are, these girls were never referred to as "puffy haired freaks". I would beg my mom to let me straighten my hair for every special occasion, and I would do whatever possible to make those blow outs last as long as possible.

In high school, whenever I would straighten my hair, I would take hundreds of selfies in different outfits so that I would have a stock pile of "acceptable" pictures just in case.

It took me almost 20 years to appreciate the beauty that is my curly hair. It took trends in magazines and seeing girls try to emulate my hair, before I began to appreciate it. I still love straightening my hair, and have even tried curling it lately so that all my curls are uniform, but had it not been for a wild hair pick I posted on instagram over the summer, I would have spent the past semester hiding behind buns and braids, as I had all throughout high school.

I would constantly compare my hair to that of the pretty girls in my class who probably rolled out of bed, put on their uniform and headed to school, knowing perfectly well that their hair looked fine and would cooperate the whole day. If anything, they would spend fifteen minutes flat ironing it so that it would be pin straight, as opposed to the hour and a half it would take me. (Although I have managed to bring it down to an hour and fifteen minutes, or 3.5 episodes of degrassi).

While looking at old pictures and videos on my phone the other day, I couldn't help but admire the pictures and videos in which my hair was straight. I looked so much more put together. Yet in the pictures where my hair was wild and curly, I looked so happy and carefree.

I had an event a few weeks ago in which I asked some of my friends if I should wear my hair natural, or straighten it. They all said, "natural." Although I eventually chose to wear it straight since it matched my outfit better (something only curly haired people would understand), I asked them why they said to wear it curly if I obviously looked better with it straight, "you don't look like yourself when your hair is straight," "you're not Carmen without your curly hair," they said.

Something so simple, yet so resonating. My curly hair made me who I am. Curly hair is wild, carefree, seemingly effortless. I was known for my curly hair, and to them, straightening it was changing what made me different.

I love straightening my hair every once in a while, it matches some of my more chic outfits and it gives me a blank canvas to experiment with some hairstyles, but it does not really show who I am as a person.

It sucks that it took validation from others to get me to love something about me that makes me so special, but I am so glad it finally happened. Hair is temporary, you can cut it, dye it, or change it whenever you want. Self love is forever.