My hair - my curse and my blessing. It is the soundtrack of my life. Sure it looks good now, but let me take you through the WALK OF SHAME...

The only time in my life when I didn’t have hair ‘issues’.

My great-grandmother from Harlem told my mom to “ ...just slap some grease on they head and comb through it!” Sage advice.

Thought I was the black Farrah. Ain’t that sad? Damn you Milwaukee!

Okay, even in the 80s this was ugly.

This was my crackhead phase.

Yes, this is my hair. I bought it. It's mine.