Since her days on “Love & Hip Hop: Miami,” Amara La Negra has been a powerful advocate for Afro-Latina representation. She has graced numerous TV segments, gone viral on social media, and appeared on various podcasts and radio shows, where she has openly shared her experiences with colorism and the importance of representation. All the while, she continues to work on her music, participate in empowering campaigns, and cohost Univision’s daytime talk show “Desiguales.” She’s even launched her own fragrance, Eternal Beauty by Amara.
Yet despite all her achievements, critics still can’t seem to leave her hair alone. Amara wants to make one thing abundantly clear: how she wears her hair is her business, and hers alone.
Amara’s early relationship with her hair — like that of many Afro-Dominican girls — was tangled in complexity. “I’d be lying to you if I told you that in my younger years, I understood what my hair represented,” she tells Popsugar. “But I can definitely tell you that later on, growing up around the age of 15 or so, is when I decided to stop [relaxing] my hair.”
The constant messaging she received growing up was that her hair wasn’t beautiful, and her natural beauty wasn’t enough.
“I remember hearing in my household about my hair being bad — ‘pelo malo,'” she shares. As a child star and often the only Black girl in the room, Amara felt the pressure to consistently wear her hair straight in order to land opportunities.
“I remember hearing in my household about my hair being bad — ‘pelo malo.'”
“Having to even be on national TV and be in these hairstyling rooms where they couldn’t manage my hair — my hair was [considered] unmanageable,” she adds. “I remember those days, and it was tough because I knew that I was definitely different from the rest of the girls because obviously their hair was quicker to do, and mine took a bit more love and affection.”
In her teens, after experiencing severe damage and hair loss from so much straightening, Amara reclaimed her power and ditched the relaxers, the blowouts, and the flat irons. She began embracing her natural hair, rocking a gorgeous Afro that quickly became one of her most iconic features on “Love & Hip Hop: Miami.” Black Latinas across the country celebrated seeing themselves represented and praised her for using her voice to advocate for the community. But as with anything that goes viral, the backlash wasn’t far behind. And somehow, the haters always manage to be the loudest voices in the room.
For the longest time, many people refused to believe that Amara was actually Black. The severe ignorance surrounding her Afro-Latinidad and the policing of Black identity was at an all-time high when Amara first went viral. People couldn’t comprehend how someone could be Black in appearance, proudly Latina, and speak with a Dominican Miami accent — it was simply beyond their understanding.
“It was really annoying. It was aggravating. I just felt like everything I did was questionable. You know what I mean? Is your skin real? There’s no way you’re Latina and you speak Spanish and you’re Black, so you must be taking melanin shots,” she says, referencing false accusations that she took melanin shots to darken her skin. “Every picture was a reason for them to judge me. They’d say, ‘In this picture her skin is lighter.’ Or ‘In this picture her skin is dark.’ It’s like, have you guys ever heard of lighting?”
Amara’s Blackness was so frequently questioned, particularly by other Latine individuals, that even years after the passing of the CROWN Act and other laws designed to protect Black women from hair discrimination, she still found herself in awkward and invasive situations.
“Even in interviews, TV hosts would be like, ‘Oh let me touch your hair. I can’t believe your hair is like this.’ I’m like, why can’t you believe it? There are people of African descent in every part of this world,” she says.
As uncomfortable as it was to have people touch her hair without permission, Amara has learned to navigate these moments with grace. She understands that, more often than not, these problematic behaviors stem from deep ignorance rather than malice.
In recent years, Amara has faced comments suggesting that she somehow stepped away from embracing her Blackness simply because she’s chosen to wear straight-styled wigs. She makes it abundantly clear that beneath those wigs, her beautiful Afro remains, and her reasons for wearing straight wigs are varied and personal.
“Wearing wigs is a form of protective hairstyling that protects my own hair from getting damaged from chemicals or even the picking of the Afro, which is something that most people don’t talk about,” she shares. “Picking your Afro every single day to make sure it’s perfectly round can be very damaging.”
She also admits that part of her decision to occasionally wear straight-styled wigs was strategic, helping her gain access to spaces where she feels her voice is needed.
“I think it’s important to know how to camouflage yourself — if needed — to get into those right rooms,” she says. “If you go into those rooms still being authentic to yourself but knowing that you might have to camouflage yourself a little bit here and there to be able to have a seat at that table where you can really make a difference, then go ahead and do that.”
When it comes to critics who always seem dissatisfied with how Black women choose to wear their hair — whether it’s a natural Afro, blown-out straight, or styled with a sleek wig — Amara’s stance is simple: people need to find better things to do with their time.
“To me, it’s like, mind your business,” she says. “I feel like there’s bigger fish to fry. There are so many other things that you can be concerned and worried about, and a Black woman’s hair shouldn’t be your priority. So, if you don’t like it, then don’t look at it.”
As a Black, curly-haired Latina myself, I couldn’t agree with her more.
Johanna Ferreira is the content director for PS Juntos. With more than 10 years of experience, Johanna focuses on how intersectional identities are a central part of Latine culture. Previously, she spent close to three years as the deputy editor at HipLatina, and she has freelanced for numerous outlets including Refinery29, Oprah magazine, Allure, InStyle, and Well+Good. She has also moderated and spoken on numerous panels on Latine identity.
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