It's dark. I'm snuggled safely in a bed that looks like mine but there's no other furniture in the room. "Hmmm, that's strange," I think as I drift off to sleep. My eyes flutter and I fight the urge to sleep—something is wrong, but I just can't figure out what.

Why is my door cracked open? Did I leave it like that? I never usually leave my door open...

Something is oddly wrong with this picture, but I fall into a deep slumber anyway. I wake up what seems days later. I'm stumbling out of bed and lift my arm to scratch my head and stretch. Wait. Something's wrong. My hair. It's flat. And I don't mean bed head. It's . . . straight. SOMEONE PUT A RELAXER IN MY HAIR WHILE I WAS ASLEEP!

My mind races. Tears blur my vision. This is too horrifying to be true. Two years happily nappy and it's all down the drain, right along with that relaxer concoction. "My life is over," I yell to the sky. I can't go on anymore. What's the point? Sure, I complained about how long it takes to detangle and how expensive natural ingredients are, but that didn't mean I didn't love my natural coils! Now I have to start all over. WHY HAVE THE GODS DONE THIS TO ME! I catch a glimpse of bone-straight, deep-brown hair brushing my shoulders. This is what I look like now.

Straight One
Straight Two

My straight hair circa 2008. It went through cycles of growth and breakage, hence the "bangs". I had to rock them somehow

In slow motion, I see myself collapse.

Before I hit the floor, I sit straight up in my bed, sweating. I look around to make sure I'm not still dreaming. Wait. I was dreaming? There's only one way to be sure . . . I race to the bathroom, flick on the lights and see it in all its coily tangled glory: my afro smooshed perfectly on the side I sleep on. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Yes, the straight hair nightmare exists.