In January, on next weekend of the eleventh period of this unlimited pandemic, We felt flattened by so many weights: COVID-19, Zoom phone calls, the grind of cold weather operating, anxiety. I became desperate for a change—anything that would jolt me personally regarding my tired county and into a prickly awareness. As my personal sweetheart, Cole, and I squeezed into my personal top-floor house bathroom, we stared into my personal tiny, crooked echo, examining many years of wavy growth on my head—bleached by sun, split by heating and dry skin and curled by several months of relentless dampness. We parted my personal lengthy, honeyed locks and pinched my personal tresses into four ponytails. Fortsätt läsa ”While he sawed through my personal thick hair, we welcomed queerness inside bathroom—and into the partnership”