When They See They
My youngest offspring is, to the best of my knowledge based on conversations and open dialogue, a cisgendered White heterosexual male adolescent. When he started a new high school and I asked about reinventing himself, his immediate response was “The only thing I change about me is my hair.” A vibrant mix of hottie pink and radiant orchid at the moment, his dyed hair changes its hue on the regular. He takes pride in having fabulous shoulder length hair, enduring regular trims so bleaching does minimal damage. With porcelain skin, a square jawline, and a dash of freckles, he is, objectively, beautiful.