Growing up as an Afro-Latina in the United States felt like piecing together an intricate puzzle. My summers in the Dominican Republic (DR) with my grandparents are some of my most treasured memories, filled with the vibrant traditions of our culture: the sizzle of salami frying on the stove, the rich, comforting aroma of sancocho, the sweet warmth of arroz con leche (my favorite!), and, most cherished of all, the stories of our family’s history, told with laughter and love. Those moments felt like gold, weaving me into the fabric of our heritage.

But integrating that heritage into my daily life in the States was a different story. I attended a predominantly white university, where my curly hair was seen as something exotic or “different.” In the Dominican Republic, the term "pelo malo" (bad hair) was often used to describe curls like mine. Even though I loved my culture, I often felt caught between two worlds that didn’t seem to fully accept me. Each visit to the DR held a lingering reminder of that phrase — casting a shadow over my curls and confidence.

Transitioning into corporate America brought its own set of challenges. My curls, which to me symbolized strength, culture, and beauty, were seen as “unprofessional.” I remember the discomfort of being told, sometimes subtly, sometimes directly, that my natural hair was a “distraction.” For a while, I wondered if I’d ever be accepted for who I was without altering something so intrinsic to my identity. But as they say, every struggle carries the seeds of strength.

Over time, change started taking shape across the U.S. — the CROWN Act (Creating a Respectful and Open World for Natural Hair) set a legal precedent, protecting natural hair from discrimination. Knowing that people with natural hair had legal backing was a monumental moment, a breath of fresh air for so many of us who just wanted to show up as ourselves — curls and all. By the wa, as of 2024, the CROWN Act has been enacted in 27 U.S. states and Washington, D.C., meaning that protections against hair-based discrimination are in place in about half of the country.

These laws vary by state, but they generally prohibit discrimination based on natural hairstyles and hair textures associated with race, such as braids, locs, twists, and afros. Empowered by this shift, I decided to lean into my identity rather than shy away from it.

Finding online communities where Afro-Latina voices resonated helped me grow into this acceptance. These virtual spaces became safe havens, filled with stories that mirrored my own and voices that reflected my journey. Seeing other Afro-Latinas proudly embracing their roots and natural hair inspired me to start sharing my experiences too. To my surprise, others resonated with my story, echoing my experiences and offering their own. I finally felt seen.

This newfound community allowed me to walk into any room with confidence, knowing that my hair, my culture, and my heritage were sources of pride. Showing up online and standing up for myself allowed me to reconnect with my Afro-Latina identity in a way I hadn’t before. I took time to learn and dive deeper into my family heritage, gaining knowledge about who I am and where my identity is rooted. This deeper understanding strengthened my conversations around natural hair and self-acceptance.

Today, standing among so many curly-haired women, all proudly wearing their roots, gives me a sense of belonging I hadn’t realized I was missing.

One of the most powerful moments was meeting other Afro-Latinas who shared this journey of self-acceptance. We bonded over our love for our culture and our determination to redefine the narrative around our natural hair. These women (they know who they are) became my sisters in resilience and pride, reinforcing the power of community and representation. Seeing confident, strong women who have hair that looked like mine and embraced their curls lit a fire in me, making me realize that our stories and our presence matter deeply.

Separately, a trip to Rio de Janeiro this year added another beautiful layer to this journey. Watching locals proudly wear their curls reminded me of how universal this journey is. Despite language barriers, we connected over our shared love for curly hair and our unique but parallel experiences. Each interaction reinforced that beauty doesn’t conform to one standard, and every story of resilience is worth celebrating.

As I continue to travel, connect, and share my experiences, I want to pass along this message to YOU: Embrace your heritage, your roots, and your natural beauty. Our curls, once deemed “pelo malo,” are now a testament to our pride and resilience. Self-acceptance is a journey that takes time, courage, and community, but it’s one worth every step.

I’ll close with this: let your curls be a proud reflection of your journey. Wear them with love, celebrate them, and remember that they are extraordinary. Our roots tell a story of history, strength, and beauty that’s entirely our own. <3