Unlocking Your Creative Identity: The Power of Hair as Personal Story

You’ve experimented with everything, but what truly suits your artistic essence?

Let’s start at the roots. Literally.

One of the most defining parts of my personal story—of understanding my creative identity—is my hair.

Around third grade, my mother gave me locs, and then told me afterward that it was permanent. “Okay...cute, thanks!”

In the mid 2000s The natural hair movement wasn’t a thing. It was all about perms; burning your scalp and literally tolerating pain to meet a beauty standard. And because of that, I kind of… turned on myself.

I begged my mom to take the locs out. I wanted micro braids. I wanted weaves. I wanted anything else. I was on YouTube researching every single beauty YouTuber who specialized in different types of weaves. I studied it. Obsessed. For hours. Brazilian Mongolian. Malaysian!

I became a geographic scholar, okay? I was invested.

(Side note because I know people love to fight—if you’re a wig girlie or a weave girlie: I support you. I see you. Lay the lace, live your best life. I’m just saying… don’t adapt to someone else’s foundation in order to fit in or please someone else. It should be for you.)

---

The phase of disconnect from your Creative Identity

When we try to share our creativity, we often avoid the most personal parts—the foundation—because we’re scared. Scared we won’t be received well. Scared because maybe we’ve been bullied for those parts before.

That’s where you lose your center. And where your creativity loses its power.

So then what do we do? We start experimenting.

Curly weaves! Straight weaves! Bangs! Microbraids! She was everywhere, she was everything.

Every single time, I thought maybe this one would be it. The one that would finally feel right. That would finally be me.

But the whole time, my foundation—my real hair—was struggling. My edges? Dry. My scalp? Battered. Bruised. I was breaking myself in the name of trying to belong.

And that’s why I’m so intentional about what I share. Because at the end of the day? Everyone you listen to, including me, is just an opinion. You know what’s best for you—if you take the time to listen.

---

Your hairstylist can’t save you

When you’re in that phase of trying everything, you’re constantly searching outside of yourself.

I went to hairstylists, trying to get some answers. You already know—trying a new hairstylist is a trust fall. Some stylists? Not all—but some? They will treat your scalp like it owes them money (and it technically does...).

No tenderness, no care, no thought about you.

Because you’re just one of many clients they have that day. They’re not tailoring anything to your story, your needs, your roots. Just what’s trendy. What’s fast.

And if you always look to other people to define your hair, your brand, your creativity—you’re never going to get care. You’ll get service. You won’t get soul.

---

Coming home to myself

I figured it out when I hit that final wall. That broken, bruised, burned out wall.

I asked myself: “What’s a hairstyle that’s actually good for my hair? Hair so gloriously kinky that it curls upon itself...one may even say it locks together?”

…Locs.

And so I came back to them. I re-installed them. And I felt like I was coming home. Like I had finally stopped fighting myself.

I’ve never had a positive relationship with my hair like this. Not since… ever.

And in our community, hair has always been tied to pain. Hair day? It meant tears. It meant comments. It meant judgment. So, yeah—addressing your personal story? It’s not always soft and sweet. It’s often hard. Raw. Uncomfortable.

But once you do the work—once you know what products inspire you, what rituals nurture you, what aesthetics awaken you—everything starts to grow. Not just your hair. Your whole creative ecosystem.

---

Explore Personal | The Hair Series for more

I made this series to share the heart of what I believe: your identity is the base of your brilliance.

The video, the visuals, the storytelling—it’s not just art. It’s a mirror. And I want you to see yourself in it.

So go watch it. Come home to yourself.

I’ll see you next time. 💌

---

I realized I was missing a part of myself—that expression that was completely bold and colorful. And when I didn’t care what anyone else thought about me, I went into a deep, deep depression.

My life was a mess, but eventually I got out of it. And one of the things that got me out of it was my mother reminding me who I was, by gifting me her closet. And that is the foundation of AMOE.