Digital Perm Death

My usual curly mess of hair was transformed. It was now smoothed straight at the top, and then flowed into elegant, loose curls. I loved it and my new boyfriend adored it too.

The hairdresser had told my friend in Thai, which was then translated to me, that if I wanted my new look to last for about 6 months, I could get a digital perm. I wouldn't have to do anything but wash it, and it would fall into place perfectly everyday.

How could I say no?? The next week I went to the same hairdresser to get it done. The whole process took 3 hours and two of my friends hung out with me the whole time. First my hair was chemically straightened. Then the ends were curled in a machine that looked like the suckers dairy farmers put on cow udders.

I kept trying to stay hopeful that this rather tedious, strange process would bring about the desired result, so I stayed positive and looked at pictures in a Thai celebrity mag as cow udder suckers were stuck to my head and chemical smells burned up my nose.

Finally, it was over. So my hair didn't look quite as curled and elegant as the first day I came to the hairdresser, but I figured it might need some time to loosen up. The next day I washed my hair, excited to see what would happen. Out of my bathroom mirror peering at me was a girl with straight hair at the top, and frizzy, wavy-ness at the ends. Not quite what I expected or wanted to get from my $200.

I decided to go back, and try again because the hairdresser told me if it wasn't curled enough, she would fix it for me for free. I didn't realize this would mean doing the entire process again. I sat for another 3 hours, with even more hope under the udder-suckers than before.

But the next day, my hair looked exactly the same as the day before. And now, my fine, soft hair, felt like the hair on a long-forgotten Barbie doll. It was coarse and knotted and impossible to run my fingers through. It wasn't until six months later when I went back to America to a hairdresser that I would learn my hair had been completely and throughly fried to death.

The average strand of Asian hair is much thicker and coarser than a non-Asian's strand of hair, and probably 10 times thicker than my strands. So a typical Asian's hair can hold up to a digital perm's harsh treatments, but when my hair was permed not only once, but twice, all life was sucked out of it. After I learned all this it clicked in my head why the second time I went the hairdressers they were saying something about foreigners hair in quiet, confused tones.

So I had to live with this mistake and deal with the fact that I would never again see my once annoying, messy curls that in my mind I now remembered as precious ringlets which I was so silly to be discontent with.

But even horrible hair mistakes don't last forever. After a few months, I noticed that in the midst of my straight hair on top small curls were popping up like waves in a calm sea. This didn't really make me happy though because my hair wasn't any better, now it was just indecisive-- it couldn't make up its mind to be straight or curly. Random people I would meet would say, "Wow, you have an interesting hairstyle. How do you make your hair curly and straight?" Then i would have to go into the death of my hair story every time.

This morning, about one year later, as I was walking through the Metro Mall glancing at myself in the mirror-covered wall, I saw how my hair is almost all curly now. It still isn't completely back to normal. Maybe it won't ever be the same, but Im starting to like the new look.

It hit me how like my hair, I see all the ugly, messed-up parts of me and wonder if they will ever change--will I ever be the stronger, more loving and considerate woman I yearn to be? I think even though I don't see the transformation over night--like I hoped would happen to my screwed-up hair--it is happening, a little more everyday as I let go and let more grace come in to make beauty out of the ugly things in my life.