I was born bald. Like my own baby bottom. I didn’t grow hair enough for bows until around age three. Until then, my mom would tape little bows on my hair for photos. And constantly tell people I was a GIRL. Not a boy with pierced ears. I’ve more than made up for it though. Today my hair is this big, in your face, curly thing that causes people to say, think, and do things to it — and to me — that the average haired person has probably never encountered. It’s cool. I’m old now and I get…