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I can’t stop thinking about that day in April 2019 when my daily scroll through Facebook came to a jarring stop. I could not stop staring at the picture that accompanied one post. The flawless smiling face. The glorious brown skin. The sparkling crown. The Afro? WTF?

Honestly, I was unsure of how to react to the headline announcing Kaliegh Garris, a Black woman from Connecticut with a glorious curly Afro, as the newly-crowned Miss Teen USA. I could not stop smiling, but simultaneously I also felt like sobbing uncontrollably. Knowing that in 2019, this fellow woman of color’s reign reportedly marked the first time in two decades that the Miss Teen USA crown was placed on “natural hair” invoked an immense sense of pride — and that was before I learned a few days later that now the reigning Miss USA and Miss America are also Black women. Taking in the images of these very distinct-looking Black women sporting a diverse mix of hair textures, however, it immediately invoked memories of my own painful struggles centered around my hair growing up biracial.

Let’s just say, I did not like my hair. In fact, it would be more accurate to say that for me growing up half Black and half Japanese in Japan, I despised my poufy spray of tightly-coiled locks. It was hard. Literally, no one had hair like mine. And as a result, I could not use any Japanese hair products; they just did not work for me. What’s worse is that as a Japanese woman, my mother tried her best, but she was totally clueless about how to care for my type of hair. I dreaded getting it washed because she would comb the crap out of my curls, leaving me in unbearable pain and sometimes even tears.

Dealing with the public in Japan was even worse. Strangers would stare. And the kids at school held nothing back. Some called me “ramen head,” literally comparing my curly do to noodles. And that was one of the nice nicknames. Sometimes they’d liken my locks to a Brillo pad, especially when my hair was a tangled, matted mess, which was often. I remember tearfully praying to God to ‘please make my hair like the other kids’ – bone-straight and black. As I got older, I detested my tresses even more. In desperation I turned to relaxers to chemically straighten my hair – anything that would just press my hair flatter to my head sounded good to me. Relaxers brought temporary satisfaction, but even that was short-lived, as eventually the mere thought of the intense burning that these harmful chemicals slathered generously across my scalp, would invoke more tears from me. It did not help that my stylist, also woefully unprepared and unskilled, would tug mercilessly at my hair.

Then one day, during my senior year in high school, I’d had one God-awful perm too many. My scalp had been so badly burned by the relaxer chemicals, that patches of my hair stuck to a scab forming on my scalp. When I pulled gently on the strands, they just fell off. All I could do was cry. I’d had enough. I knew it was time to go natural, but still I waited a few more months to fully commit. When I returned to the salon I told the stylist to just cut it all off and start fresh. I have not looked back since. Eventually my hair grew back and a few years later we moved to the U.S., where my hair woes improved, but only slightly.

Now that I am older, I realize that my hair story was merely a microcosm of the deeper issues with which many of my fellow “blasians” and other multi-racial people often struggle. Being biologically part of two very distinct cultures is complicated, to say the least. Being Black and Asian in particular, I feel, often comes with a pressure to downplay your Black side, while emphasizing your Asian-ness. It feels anti-Black to me. What’s funny is that in many ways it would make more sense for me to check the “Asian” ethnicity box on forms, because culturally, growing up with a Japanese mother, my upbringing was definitely more Asian than Black. Unfortunately, as I navigate through life, the rest of world doesn’t view me that way. Now, I’m okay with that.

The bottom line is that no matter how much Japanese I know or how enthusiastic I am about Japanese culture, my life experiences have made me feel like I’ll probably always be perceived as an outsider to most Japanese people (well, unless I somehow could represent the country as a gifted athlete or through some other display of amazing talent). I believe that one’s identity is a personal choice, but a huge part of my own healing process has included me embracing, accepting and celebrating my blackness. I am no longer preoccupied with feeling as though everyone has to know that I am part Asian too.My decision to do so is not about appeasing other people, it’s about me carving out a special space in the world that makes me feel whole.

In my case, the Black community has been more welcoming to me and celebratory of me and my quirky hair than any other racial or ethnic group. The show of support has helped me to feel more comfortable in my cappuccino-colored skin. At the end of the day, I know who I am and that’s what matters most to me. So, now when I stare at these three beauty queens with skin and hair more closely similar to mine, I can truly smile from within. Their reigns give me hope that the tide may be changing and the mainstream definition of “beauty” is widening.

I have maintained my naturally curly tresses for eight years now and overall my mane is much stronger and healthier. I guess you can say that I have finally found some comfort in my curls. My best advice to anyone struggling with racial identity or their “different” hair (or skin color, eyes, nose, for that matter), is to put in the work and try to figure out how to love yourself exactly the way you are. Grammy-winning singer/songwriter India.Arie is so right in her hit, “I Am Not My Hair.” Now, not only do I know that’s true, I also know that I am greater than whatever texture of hair grows out of my head.  It took many gut-wrenching, agonizing years, but now I can honestly celebrate my unique mane in all of its poufy glory. Finally, I know deep down that God made me exactly how I am supposed to be!