making the transition...

i wish i'd never permed my hair. i had gorgeous hair. it was long and thick... but i was so sensitive that a RAN from combs. in fifth grade, my mother decided she couldn't take it any more and straightened it permanently [is that were "perm" comes from?] i remember feeling grown up, like i had joined a new social club for black women. no more lil'-girl ponytails.
but it broke off; at one point my hair barely brushed my shoulders. i think i slowly started to adjust to styling my hair in high school. in my first driver's license, it fell past my collarbones. at Spelman i recognized the beauty of the hair salon and a fresh style - walking down the street with your hair flowing in the wind, trying to make it look as full as possible, and experimenting with highlights (during which it promptly broke off again.... and yet again my first year in grad school when i dyed my entire head auburn... but it was cute though). i tried to "grow it out" several times, but gave up each time the summer humidity left me feeling like a walking puff. but this time i think - i hope - that i'm serious. i'm no longer in love with my perm, but i'm terrified of being without it... correction - i'm afraid of cutting it off and having short hair for the first time in my life; afraid of being outside of society's norm. i'm afraid of the transition...