As my friend Motown Girl can tell you, black women have long had a complicated relationship with their hair. In fact, it was her website that helped me along to the natural hair I now have and love. It's been a 6 year journey of growing it out and cutting it down, but the third time was the charm. This time it's grown out just the way I've always imagined it could be - shiny, strong, soft and perfectly curly.

For the last couple of months, I've been thinking about what it would look like blown out and straightened. So I made an appointment with the lovely Judy to get it done. I had a feeling it would feel strange, and that I would look completely different. But I still exclaimed a "holy crap!" when I saw the final result. I saw my mother's face looking back at me from the mirror. And while my mother is a good looking woman, it was still shocking.

Though it's only temporary, this hairstyle has made me think a lot about the way my hair defines me in a way. Judy did a great job, but somehow, this hair makes me feel more ordinary - less me. Some of the friends who have seen it agree. My untouched hair is a signifier for the person who is Bev. This style feels like a disguise. But for the next few days, I'll try and enjoy being able to run my fingers through my hair, not worrying about hat, bed or headphone head, and seeing the shocked reactions of people who know me but would walk right by me the way I look today.