Growing my hair out forever ago is how I learned (started, anyway) I have only a faint attachment to the male identity. I got called “ma’am” with surprising regularity and it never bothered me to be misgendered. My hair’s still long, but I’m fat and bearded so waitstaff are a lot more confident from all angles. People were a lot more casually homophobic back then too, but girls loved to play with it so the joke’s on them.

I’ve always kept it brushed and loose unless I’m working and need it out of the way. (Or it’s windy. Damned wind.)