“I’m just going to cut the rest of it off.” These words echoed in Susan Wiley’s mind as she sat in the salon chair, steeling herself for the momentous decision to finally part ways with her chemically straightened hair. For three decades, the 60-year-old had meticulously permed her hair every six weeks, a ritual that had gradually transformed from a pampering session into a demanding, self-imposed obligation. “I was so exasperated with having to go to a salon and spend my whole Saturday waiting on hairstylists that were running late,” she recalls. As Wiley navigated the physical changes of menopause—the disconcerting hot flashes, the noticeable hair thinning, and other accompanying symptoms—her hair straightening treatment became an increasingly arduous chore, a stark contrast to its once-enjoyed status as a moment of self-care.
Wiley’s experience is a growing phenomenon among Black women in their 50s and beyond, many of whom are reaching a similar breaking point and choosing to embrace their natural texture. Brendnetta Ashley, a San Francisco-based hairstylist, has observed this discernible shift firsthand as her more mature clientele enters menopause. The hair changes associated with this life stage often lead these women to re-evaluate their beauty routines. “They didn’t want to put any extra stress on the hair like getting a relaxer or using harsh chemicals,” Ashley explains, noting that this demographic is increasingly prioritizing hair health and a less demanding regimen.
This trend signifies more than just a cosmetic change; it represents a powerful act of reclaiming identity and unlearning decades of societal messaging that often dictated that straight hair was inherently more professional, manageable, and acceptable for Black women. As these women confront the biological realities of aging, their decision to go natural is a response to their hair’s changing needs and a conscious effort to embrace their authentic selves.
Robin Richards, another woman in her late 50s, experienced a more spontaneous “big chop” at age 55. “I just got up from the kitchen table and went upstairs and chopped it,” she recounts. Her decision was fueled by a growing weariness of the constant scheduling of hair appointments and, significantly, by reports linking chemicals commonly found in relaxers to an increased risk of certain cancers. After four years of embracing her natural hair, Richards expresses a sense of liberation.
While the natural hair movement of the early 2010s, largely propelled by YouTube tutorials and social media, saw a significant wave of millennial and Gen Z Black women embracing their curls and coils, older Black women were often on the periphery of this cultural conversation. The prominent figures and influencers of that era were predominantly younger, with women like Chizi Duru (now 30), Whitney White (now 40), and Shaneice Crystal (now 31) often fronting campaigns and leading online discussions. Richards vaguely remembers the discourse around natural hair acceptance around 2016, stating, “I was pleased that wearing our natural hair was being more accepted,” but she wasn’t deeply engaged or directly influenced by it.
However, as the Black community stands on the cusp of what some are calling a renewed natural hair movement, older women are increasingly finding their voices and sharing their transformative journeys. This article spoke with four Black women over 50—Susan Wiley, Robin Richards, Avvi Forcer, and Marie Randall—who have embraced their natural hair later in life. For these women, the decision to transition from the comfort and familiarity of straightened hair was driven by more than just a passing trend; it was rooted in a profound personal desire to reconnect with their most authentic selves.
The Unlearning Curve: Decades of Societal Pressure
For many Black women, the decision to go natural transcends a mere aesthetic choice. It necessitates the unlearning of deeply ingrained societal norms that have, for generations, equated straight hair with professionalism, manageability, and broader social acceptance. All four women interviewed shared that they had contemplated going natural earlier in their lives, but a confluence of factors—limited product availability, a scarcity of educational resources for natural hair care, and persistent social pressures—often deterred them from making the transition sooner.
For Wiley’s generation, the emphasis on straight hair was often intertwined with social navigation, particularly in the post-Civil Rights era. Growing up during the early years of integration, many older Black women learned to view straightened hair as a strategic tool for navigating predominantly white educational, professional, and social environments more comfortably and safely. “For women my age who grew up back in the ‘80s, our hair was not celebrated at all; everybody had a relaxer back then,” Wiley explains, having been raised in a predominantly white neighborhood in Maryland. “My hair didn’t look like my friends’ hair. So all of those things painted this negative picture that I carried all the way into adulthood.”
In contrast, many millennial and Gen Z Black women, including this author, explored natural hair during their college years as part of a broader journey of self-discovery and independence. This coincided with the explosion of beauty content on YouTube in the 2010s, which provided a wealth of service-driven tutorials and fostered a culture where wash days became opportunities for self-care and experimentation with new products and styles championed by popular online creators.
However, Black women in Generation X experienced a different landscape. Wiley recalls that during her high school and college years, styling options for Black hair were far more limited, and comprehensive guidance for natural hair care was virtually nonexistent. YouTube, which launched in 2005 when these women were in their 40s, was not a primary resource for their formative years. Styles like braids and silk presses were not widely prevalent or accessible. Hair was largely either relaxed or worn in its natural texture, with the latter being far less common and often stigmatized. Richards, who began relaxing her hair at 13, echoes this sentiment: “It was easier for it to be relaxed; that way, it could just be washed and put in a ponytail.”
The pressure to conform to Eurocentric beauty standards did not wane as these women entered the workforce; in many cases, it intensified. They encountered expectations that influenced not only their hairstyles but also their overall professional presentation. “Being in corporate America, you always just wanted to stay mainstream,” says Richards, who works in the medical field. “You didn’t want to bring any attention to your hair or the fact that it was different.” This was a significant concern in an era predating the CROWN Act, legislation aimed at prohibiting hair discrimination in workplaces and public accommodations, making many women of Richards’ generation feel that wearing their natural hair to work was simply not an option.
Wiley experienced a similar dynamic in her career. “You get so used to this idea of code-switching and trying to present yourself in a way that is acceptable to other people,” she notes, explaining that relaxers had become so integral to her identity that the prospect of wearing her natural coils to work felt intimidating.
The pressure to conform was not always external; sometimes, it originated from within the Black community itself. As the adage goes, “It be your own people.” Avvi Forcer, now 56, experienced this firsthand 13 years ago at age 43, when she attended a family member’s wedding wearing her natural hair. “Everyone had relaxed hair,” she recalls, feeling out of place and as though her natural hair made her appear less “dressed up.” Two years later, at another family wedding, she opted to relax her hair. “I always loved the natural look, but I wasn’t so grounded in myself, so I gave in and got a relaxer,” she admits.
A few years later, Forcer developed scalp dermatitis, a condition that prompted her to embrace her natural hair once again. This time, however, she possessed a greater sense of self-assurance, and the natural look became a lasting choice. She has not used a relaxer since.
Marie Randall, 59, also made the decision to go natural at 55, mirroring Robin Richards’ timeline. However, Randall’s transition was deeply intertwined with a significant personal reset following the loss of her mother in 2021. Having started relaxers at the tender age of seven and maintaining them for nearly five decades, Randall took time away from work to focus on her mental and physical well-being. Cutting off her relaxed hair was a pivotal part of this healing process. “I did the big chop myself, before I went into a salon,” she shares. “The next day, I looked in the mirror, and I had all these beautiful curls—really short but really beautiful.”
Before her big chop, Randall had already begun reducing her relaxer touch-ups to twice a year, noticing a more pronounced natural texture at her roots than ever before. This observation sparked a realization: she hadn’t truly seen her own natural hair in decades. Having begun relaxers as children and adolescents, these four women had spent a significant portion of their lives disconnected from their natural texture. Curiosity eventually became a compelling enough reason to reconnect with that version of themselves. Wiley, Forcer, Randall, and Richards also found that with age came a diminished concern for external opinions. “As I was approaching menopause and all these physical changes, I got really tired of performing for people. I just decided to present myself as who I naturally am,” says Wiley.
Richards resonates with this desire for unapologetic self-expression in her later years. “I used to always tell my son, when I turn 60, I’m going to chop all my hair off, and I’m going to color it blonde and buy me a convertible,” she says. “Because when you get older, you don’t have to fit in. You’re more accepting of how you look and how you feel, versus when you’re younger, trying to stay with the trends and have long, beautiful hair.”
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The Biological Shift: Menopause and Aging’s Impact on Relaxed Hair
While the detrimental effects of relaxers are not exclusive to older individuals, their negative consequences can become more pronounced with age, particularly in conjunction with the physiological changes associated with menopause. Dr. Yolanda Lenzy, a board-certified dermatologist in Massachusetts, explains, “As women get into menopause, something called miniaturization happens. It’s when the hair follicle gets smaller.” This occurs due to a significant drop in estrogen and progesterone levels during menopause, resulting in sparser hair. When relaxers are introduced into this equation, the hair can appear even thinner.
“Relaxers break disulfide bonds in the hair, causing curls to become straight, but when you’re already experiencing thinning, perming your hair is going to lead to decreased hair density,” Dr. Lenzy elaborates. “So even though you have the same amount of hair, perming it can make it look less full as opposed to if you had it natural.”
Richards experienced precisely this phenomenon, with thinning hair resulting from a combination of natural miniaturization and ongoing perm treatments. Wiley also observed changes in her hair as she aged; it became drier and more brittle. Suddenly, the relaxer that had served her for years without issue no longer seemed compatible with her hair’s condition. “I did not have this beautiful, long, flowing, relaxed hair. My hair was very, very short, and it was broken and damaged,” she states, prompting the crucial question, “Why am I even doing this?”
Dr. Lenzy emphasizes that hair density is not the sole aspect affected by aging. “I’ve definitely seen textural changes that come with aging and menopause,” she notes. “If you had very coarse hair in your younger years, that’s now becoming fine and looser in texture, you could run into some issues if you continue to relax your hair.” The primary risk associated with continuing to relax hair that is becoming finer and looser in texture is a loss of density.
For patients experiencing thinning and hair loss related to menopause, Dr. Lenzy often prescribes minoxidil, available in topical or prescription tablet forms. She also notes that “pumpkin seed extract has also been found to help lengthen the growth phase of the hair cycle,” offering a more natural alternative for those seeking it.
Navigating the Transition: Caring for Natural Hair Post-Relaxer
For individuals who have spent decades disconnected from their natural hair, the transition to natural hair care can involve a learning curve. Randall and Richards opted for an immediate “big chop,” while Wiley and Forcer chose a gradual transition. This approach was partly due to initial apprehension about suddenly managing a texture they were unfamiliar with.
“I kept my relaxed ends for about as long as I could,” says Wiley, whose transition period lasted approximately a year. “I remember the day I cut off my relaxer and just had natural hair. I felt this feeling of freedom. I didn’t really realize it, but having a relaxer kind of made me feel trapped, and I think that was because I felt it was like an obligation, like I had to do it.” No longer bound by the relaxer, these four women began navigating the often enjoyable, albeit sometimes challenging, landscape of natural hair care.
Wiley frequently styles her hair in a stretched state, using a blow dryer to comb through her gray coils before creating a braid-out. “My hair is something that I’m still learning how to work with and how to do the things that are going to make it look its best,” she says, adding that embracing her natural hair has also helped her celebrate her graying strands.
Richards, while embracing her natural texture, still prefers to wear her hair straight and opts for a silk press every two weeks. However, her natural pressed hair is noticeably fuller and healthier than when it was relaxed, and she appreciates the ability to wear it curly whenever she desires.
One of the most surprising discoveries for these women has been the relative ease of caring for their natural hair. A prevalent misconception within the Black community is that textured hair, particularly Type 4 hair, is inherently difficult to manage. This perception contributed to their long-term reliance on relaxers. However, Randall has found that her wash days are not as time-consuming as she once believed and are, in fact, enjoyable. She now designates Saturdays or Sundays as self-care days, washing her hair, deep conditioning while attending to household chores, and then styling it in twists or braids. “It feels more rewarding,” Randall states.
Regardless of age, Dr. Lenzy advises all her patients with natural curls and coils to wash their hair weekly, suggesting that going up to two weeks without washing is acceptable, but ideally no longer. Ashley offers similar guidance to her clients: “I recommend using a hydrating shampoo and conditioner, considering deep conditioning [weekly], especially if the hair is on the drier side, and using a water-based moisturizer versus a lot of oils on the scalp.” She cautions that products heavy in oils and occlusives can create an environment conducive to dandruff or seborrheic dermatitis by feeding the yeast naturally present on the scalp.
While younger generations of Black women often embrace a DIY approach to natural hair care, leveraging platforms like YouTube and TikTok for guidance, Gen X women like those featured here often rely on salons for both hair care knowledge and a sense of community. “Many of my mature ladies actually need the assistance. So that’s where we [stylists] come into play by offering these maintenance services,” says Ashley. She frequently styles her mature clients’ hair in two-strand twists, which can be worn for about a week, and then undone to reveal a twist-out for an additional week of wear. “This way, they’re getting two weeks of wear out of the style versus having to frequently do their hair, which can be more strain on them,” Ashley explains.
Embracing one’s natural hair as a Black woman, irrespective of age, can be a deeply emotional and transformative experience that extends far beyond mere aesthetics. For women who have spent decades relying on relaxers, this shift can feel particularly vulnerable. Yet, for those ready to take the leap, Forcer, Randall, Wiley, and Richards attest that the decision can also be profoundly liberating—an opportunity to prioritize health, rediscover oneself, and move through the world with greater authenticity. As Richards wisely puts it, “You have no idea what lies under there. Your hair is beautiful.”
