We sat at the base of the stairs of her family’s Lake Tahoe cabin as my friend’s mom combed her hair, gently weaving the frizz-free strands into two French braids. Swimsuits on, sunblock slathered over our arms and legs, nothing would keep these two eight-year-olds away from a day at the beach. My friend’s mother …
How Being Kinder To My Hair Became A Well Of Self-Acceptance








