The first time I remember really seeing what it meant to challenge the status quo in an uncomfortably powerful way was from my mum. When I was ten years old, one of my mum’s youngest sisters started living with us and began exhibiting some behaviours that we felt were part of a potentially undiagnosed mental health condition.

Whilst she was struggling at home with us, feeling stressed, scared of her surroundings and oftentimes utterly confused as to where she was or how she got there, the mental health practitioners we were supposed to be able to trust with our concerns and expected to assess her correctly, led us to believe it was simply not that serious. I recall one telling us quite brazenly that she was the most sane person they’d seen in the clinic that day.

I need mental health professionals to act on behalf of their patients with the intention of finding genuine solutions without prejudice or bias.

My auntie ended up having a complete breakdown in her mental state from not being on the medication she should have been prescribed for a condition we knew needed to be diagnosed, which left her wandering around, unsafe and alone on the streets of Nottingham, and later picked up by the police for her own safety as they attempted to locate her family. It took my mum's continued unrelenting pursuit for more intensive analysis and refusal to accept the bare minimum she was offered for us to finally get a diagnosis of Paranoid Schizophrenia confirmed.

I realised that day how important it was to always speak truth to your beliefs, even if the majority pushes back aggressively. I don’t believe I would have been able to find my own voice and be so driven and urgent to use it to speak so loudly and unapologetically for my community without her showing me exactly how it’s done and preparing me for the truth of how hard pushing against the agreeable really is.

Paige Lewin. Photo by Ursula Kelly

The true impact of that experience with my mother and auntie only materialised in the last couple of years. The fire my mum ignited in me to fight against the unfair was likely kindled too early, and it was forced into suppression by the weighted challenges of growing up black and female in Britain - challenges I had no idea were coming.

During my teenage years and early adulthood, I spent an incredible amount of effort trying to ensure that my presence did not make non-black people uncomfortable. My confident cackle would dial down to a soft giggle in certain spaces so I wasn’t seen as vulgar, loud or crass. My afro was hidden by wigs or disguised by chemical straighteners for over 15 years to attempt to assimilate to the predominantly white spaces I would often find myself in seamlessly, and my ability to code-switch my accent and mannerisms from that of my colourful Jamaican lineage within mere seconds of entering a room was nothing short of an art form.

It was these many years of forced conformity that left me exhausted, frustrated, and completely distanced from my sense of self and cultural identity. This experience forced me to dig deeper to truly understand who I was and, more importantly, who I wanted to become.

I remember being scoffed at when I vulnerably admitted at one point to being unable to leave the house without wearing a wig. I felt judgement from numerous people when I explained that shaving my head was easier than learning to care for my afro...

Once I looked around and realised how many black women shared my experiences and the toll the pressure to fit a standard of beauty that was never created with us in mind was taking on us mentally, physically and emotionally, the example my mum set, many years prior, seemed like the only way forward.  

My mum taught me to always stay vigilant in understanding when the majority or the ‘trusted voices’ were falling short. She told me to be brave enough to speak power to those who couldn’t always speak so boldly for themselves or were not given the platforms to do so. And most importantly, to never, under any circumstances, accept the scraps that society wants to throw my way. Once I had learned how to do this for myself, I began investing a large amount of my time and energy through my podcast, Texture Talks, to ensure my community doesn’t either. 

Initially, the project induced a huge amount of anxiety in my spirit. I am a highly skilled over-thinker, so before posing the hard questions to my community or candidly calling out those who claimed to serve us but were actually choosing profit over passion, I felt as though I was being choked by my own words before I could say them out loud.

Any environment where telling the truth translates into upsetting the norm is in desperate need of the kind of disruption that only real honesty can bring.

I created several scenarios in my mind where I envisioned being cancelled for poorly articulating a triggering topic or approaching my responses to comments and messages without the right candour. That changed when I began speaking one-on-one with people. Videos that I feared would be “too heavy” seemed to resonate with them in a more profound way than I ever thought they would. I was told that the conversations many avoided, that I felt compelled through my own uncomfortable personal experiences to question, discuss and debate, were refreshingly relatable.

Eventually, I concluded that being completely open and forthright about my life, my pains, and my challenges should never be something that scares me. Any environment where telling the truth translates into upsetting the norm is in desperate need of the kind of disruption that only real honesty can bring.

I remember being scoffed at when I vulnerably admitted at one point to being unable to leave the house without wearing a wig. I felt judgement from numerous people when I explained that shaving my head was easier than learning to care for my afro, and I was quickly othered and seen by some as overly dramatic when I was honest enough to say that I could not stand my natural hair for a very long time.

What I would love to see is we, and I mean a collective we, inclusive of the black community, taking the time to try and really understand and respect the true depths of the psychological impacts that come with the relentless pressure to align to the beauty standards of cultures outside of our own.

Paige Lewin. Photo by Ursula Kelly

I want to see brands becoming less performative in their campaigns towards the afro and curly-haired community and start moving with some real intent to properly educate themselves on the people they are trying to supposedly support so they can create solutions that make a difference for us.

Taking it right back to where my disruptor mindset all began for me, outside of hair, I need mental health professionals to act on behalf of their patients with the intention of finding genuine solutions without prejudice or bias. I need them to listen to their patients and their families when they share their concerns before that patient is discharged without a diagnosis and potentially in danger of being harmed by others, hurting themselves or hurting others due to their condition.

I am blessed enough to hit my proudest milestones every single day. Every time I receive a comment or a private message telling me how something I shared helped somebody to feel a bit more comfortable wearing their natural hair and loving themselves authentically, I edge one step closer to achieving my mission of helping my community love themselves in their most natural form. Knowing that my disruption is not simply there to shock the masses for clickbait or viral content but can genuinely connect with people in such a way that it helps them to actively challenge the status quo in their own lives leaves me emotional every time I think about it.

My community feels more like a family to me now than followers, and I truly love them so much more than I fear backlash from people who try to keep us down. I will do anything for us, no matter the cost. The goal is no longer to be popular; it's to see change, and until I see real change, my work is not going to be done.


Paige Lewin is a Presenter, Public Speaker, Natural Hair Advocate, Founder and host of Texture Talks, one of the UK's only podcasts dedicated to educating, entertaining and engaging the afro and curly-haired community. She founded the show out of a desperate need for a resource that could help guide her on her natural hair care journey and connect her with the rest of the community who share her experiences.