Does Your 2025 Hair Calendar Include Your Natural Hair?

And why what's growing from our head isn't making the cut

Hey y’all,

*Inhales deeply* I saw Cleo Sol live in LA this past weekend, and it healed me in ways I didn’t know I needed. *exhales*

I wasn’t even supposed to be there. I was in LA yet again, looking for apartments to somehow will this move into existence, when a friend hit me up saying she was going to be in town and asked if I wanted to see Cleo Sol.

Um, THE CLEO SOL? The Cleo Sol who was one of the top listened-to artists in my Spotify Wrapped? The Cleo Sol who sang, But then the light, it came, my baby/ Right after I forgave me/And I prayed so hard, I thought I'd lose my mind? The elusive one who literally never does shows and barely shows her face, so catching her live is like spotting a leprechaun at the end of a rainbow? That one?

“Yes, that one,” she said.

Say less.

I’m still floating. Have you ever witnessed someone exercise their talent so fervently, effortlessly, and effervescently that you just knew it was God-given?

via Threads

As a music-obsessed person, I can’t remember a show I’ve been to in recent years where someone’s voice alone sent me out the galaxy. It was spiritual, and the majority of the time I had my eyes shut to fully bask in it all. Another friend said it felt like a baptism. Absolutely. We were in church—confessing our sins, preaching affirmations, and silent prayers—all being led by Cleo’s soul (pun intended).

If you haven’t heard her stuff yet, start here or here and thank me later.

This Week’s Story

Have you heard of the hair calendar trend that has the girls in a chokehold? One of the most stressful questions anyone can ask a Black woman who just took out a style is, “What are you going to do next?” *throws tomato* While planning out hairstyles for the year sounds practical in some ways, Shelley Paterson, this week’s writer, noticed that very few of the calendars feature natural hairstyles. What’s up with that? Keep reading for Shelley’s take.

Take care,

Anayo Awuzie
EIC of Carefree Mag

Does Your 2025 Hair Calendar Include Your Natural Hair?

by Shelley Patterson

Lately, there has been a growing trend of Black women meticulously planning their 2025 hair calendars. From wigs and sew-ins to knotless braids and faux locs, every protective style is mapped out for the entire year. But one thing stood out: very few of these calendars included natural hair.

There are templates online to help women build their calendars. In them, you can upload photos of your chosen style, note the stylist, cost, maintenance routine, and occasion for each month. I get it. It’s organized and stress-free—no more last-minute panic over what to do with your hair or scrambling to book an appointment. As an extensive planner myself, I can appreciate this level of organization. But it does raise an important question: are we unintentionally reinforcing the idea that our natural hair isn’t a valid choice?

It’s like we’re planning every possible style except wearing our natural hair. And that makes me wonder—do we see our natural hair as a style at all?

"But protective styles are good for our hair!"

Yes, they can be, but not when they become a crutch or when we start believing that our natural hair always needs to be hidden. The lack of representation in these hair calendars reflects a bigger issue: many of us don’t see our natural hair as a valid, everyday option.

Where does our natural hair fit into these calendars?

Black hair has always been politically tied to identity, resistance, and survival. Slavemasters shaved the heads of enslaved Africans as a way to erase their culture. Cornrows were more than a style—they were maps for escape. Eurocentric beauty standards favored straighter, looser textures. These ideas never truly left. Even today, certain curl patterns are upheld as more desirable, which shapes beauty ideals, dating preferences, and workplace discrimination.

Many of us face microaggressions about our natural hair, from being asked, “Can I touch it?” to hearing comments like, "Is that your real hair?" or "You should straighten it more often!" These experiences exhaustively shape the way we view ourselves.

Even within the Black community, there’s pressure. The obsession with length, curl patterns, and texture runs deep. We place so much value on our hair because, for centuries, we’ve been made to feel that our beauty is conditional.

Many of us were raised in environments that taught us our natural hair was “too difficult” or “unmanageable.” Mothers, aunties, and grandmothers—who had also internalized these beliefs—passed them down, reinforcing the idea that our coils needed to be tamed, straightened, or hidden.

I was fortunate—my mother was adamant that I never chemically alter my hair (aside from two regrettable texturizers). Heat was rare, and I can count on one hand the times I had my hair pressed before age 18. Despite being surrounded by women who wore relaxers and weaves, I was always encouraged to love my natural hair.

For years, I thought I was the ultimate natural hair advocate—encouraging my friends to embrace their curls, preaching the importance of healthy hair. Then, I met a girl who wore a simple ponytail. No gel, no slicked edges—just her hair. Meanwhile, I couldn’t wear a ponytail without slicking it down with a whole tub of gel. That moment made me realize I, too, had my own internalized insecurities. I thought I had embraced my natural hair, but I was still policing how I wore it.

Photo creds: Tiktok:annemarie_akin. Photo creds: Tiktok:blackb4bes

I love getting my hair done as much as the next person, but I can’t ignore how repetitive the cycle is. You install a new style, love it for a few weeks, and then it’s back to square one.

The expectation that Black women should always have their hair styled, neat, and laid is deeply ingrained. Anything less than that, and suddenly, we don’t feel “put together.”

There’s an underlying expectation that if you truly love your natural hair, you should wear it out all the time. But it’s not that simple. For many Black women, it’s not just about personal preference—it’s about how the world perceives our hair. If we don’t meet these standards, that’s when the hair depression kicks in. We all know the feeling: your hairstyle has ‘expired’, your braids are frizzy, and your natural hair is in that ‘awkward’ and ‘unstyled’ state. Or your lace is lifting and balding, and you're scrambling for a solution. It’s uncomfortable—we’re, in a way, ‘unfinished’ until we get our hair done again and finally feel ‘complete.’ The cycle is exhausting—constantly planning, spending, and maintaining styles just to feel “put together.”

I’ve heard Black women say, “My natural hair doesn’t suit me.” But how can the hair that grows from our heads not suit us?

Society has convinced us that our natural hair is messy, unpolished, and impractical. But let’s be honest—are wigs and weaves really easier? We say natural hair is too time-consuming, but is that truly the case? Installing a wig, laying edges, maintaining lace, or spending hours in a salon for braids—none of that is exactly “easy.”

So, I have to ask: why do we keep running from it?

The idea that it’s “too difficult” or “takes too much time” has become a tired excuse. Natural hair does require care, but so do the styles we replace it with. The truth is, we’ve been conditioned to see our hair as an inconvenience—something that needs to be altered to be presentable.

Loving your natural hair isn’t always instant, but trust me, it gets easier.

So, does your 2025 Hair Calendar include your natural hair? If not, is it because of personal preference, or is it influenced by societal pressures and internalized beliefs?

I'm not saying toss out your 2025 Hair Calendar or stop planning your styles. Do what makes you happy and feel good!

Loving your natural hair doesn’t mean wearing it out all the time, but it should have a place in your beauty routine. It’s not just a break between styles; it’s a style of its own.

Again, this is not an attack. I love a fresh hairstyle as much as anyone. But we need to be honest about the pressures we face and the insecurities that keep us locked into certain beauty standards.

We don’t owe the world palatable hair. We don’t have to tame, alter, or manipulate it to be considered professional or beautiful.

Our natural hair is enough.