Adulthood: when you finally manage to tame that curly, mangled lion's mane on your head enough for people to quit asking which side of your head your face is on. That's me; the girl with hair that has enough volume that even a deaf man can hear it. (I'm kidding about the deaf man). All my life I was blessed and cursed with the hair of Shirley Temple on a good day and Bozo the clown on a bad day. You know how some teenagers say their awkward years were 6th or 7th grade? Well, my gawky years were from 2nd grade up until 10th grade, all thanks to this disheveled frizz ball. But don't worry, I've been told I turned out quite alright, and it's better late than never.

My childhood was full of chaos, which shown in the rat's nest atop my head. From running to soccer to drama to basketball to girl scouts to softball, it was hard to tame the beast. I dabbed in a different hairstyle every day sometimes even unknowingly. And if you continue with that lifestyle, soon enough it becomes Halloween every day where you're Frankenstein's wife one day and Mary from "Hocus Pocus" the next. Of course, as a kid, Halloween every day doesn't sound so bad, but sometimes I just wanted to be Carolyn. My transition to adulthood didn't occur in one single moment, it happened over time. Slowly, Halloween faded away. Ever so slowly, I let my hair cascade down my back naturally. I stopped trying to be something that I wasn't. I stopped attempting to hide my curly hair and I embraced it. Instead of waking up straight out of bed and going to school, I took responsibility to make sure I felt comfortable and confident in my look. I took the responsibility to be the best me that I could be through the one aspect that truly defines who I am.

Embracing my locks of hair marked my transformation to adulthood. As a child I let things persuade me, I would believe in anything and stand for nothing. As a child, I let my hair go whichever way it desired, impervious if it had more control over me than I did. As an adult, I have control over my life. I take on obligations and have discovered myself and what I stand for in the process. Having curly hair is quite the responsibility, and as an adult, I have ascertained the ability to accept myself. My hair has helped me be unafraid to show who I am, which I believe is a crucial thing to display in adulthood. After all, it's uniqueness that sets us apart in the end and responsibilities that define character. When I look in the mirror, I no longer see a child with Shakira's hair gone wild who didn't have a handle on her life. I see a woman; confident, independent and reliable. I see Carolyn, with a whole lot of hair.