I'm growing out my hair relaxer and it's been a really great experience. The last time that I know for sure I had a relaxer was near Labor Day 2008, but I may have had another one after that, I'm not sure. I haven't been really strict with relaxing for a long time so it's hard to keep up.
Anywho, naturals call the in-between stage "transitioning," meaning that you probably have two very different hair textures coming out of your scalp and that you're having to tend to both textures.
I feel as if I'm constantly transitioning. The great profession that is writing/journalism/publishing (which I chose very, very willingly) has often put me through the ringer and required that I be very adaptable, moving from city to city, writing for different publications, freelancing here and there.
So much so that since I graduated from college in May of 2007 I've lived in three different apartments (two in the D.C. area and one in New York), not to mention the five months in Fort Worth, Tex. that I spent while I saved money to move to New York.
I've worked for countless companies since then, from temporary jobs to part-time retail jobs to internships to freelance gigs.
And I have to tell you, that I loved nearly every minute of it. My life has had such a feeling of vivrancy and immediacy and spirit. I feel like a hustler, someone who's able to make it anywhere. My goals and dreams come in very clear when my back is up against the wall, I learned from those experiences.
My life now feels settled. Which in some ways is AMAZING! I never thought that I'd enjoy doing things like paying bills online or furniture shopping or gasing up the car. But they're MY bills, paid with MY money, furniture for MY apartment, gas for MY car. I love it! Yet a sneaky part of me feels as if settled = domesticated. And I wonder if I'll ever write that novel before I turn 25, or publish any of my short stories in The New Yorker, or write a screenplay, or direct a documentary. When I feel like this I get soooo antsy. I start to think about moving to London or L.A. I tell myself that there's a whole big world out there that I haven't seen.
Which brings up some really fundamental questions. How do we ever have the time in the day, or the weeks in a year to pursue all of our dreams? When we've accomplished one goal, does that make the other, more distant goals less of a focus in our life? Is growing older really all about growing stale?