I always hated my curly hair.
Looking back at my pictures when I was a baby, I always had this halo of baby hair that looked like I had just been electrocuted.
It was always tied up in a bun or a really tight braid, which caused my hairline to shift back a bit.
Growing up, I wanted to look pretty, which, hair-wise, in our society, meant having straight hair.
I got chemical treatments until I turned 17 and began to realize that my hair is not that awful and that curls are beautiful!
But by then, unfortunately, my hair was damaged to the point of not even being wavy. It just looked so tired and so was I.

I cut it all off.
It barely reached my chin.
Of course I got laughed at for “looking like a boy,"
but that did not get to me at all, not even a bit.
I was trying to accept myself as I was,
and only then did I become comfortable in my own skin.

I don't think I've ever felt this confident.
I learned to care for my hair, and now everyone admires it.
Most importantly, I love being a curly head!

I forgot to say that ever since I cut my hair, they call me Marcelo.
I don't think I've ever loved a nickname as much.