Twenty years ago I entered my senior year in high school. I had just come home from a summer in Ecuador, and I had shoulder length blonde hair that I was devising a plan to cut into a pixy (do I sleep with gum? Do I just lie? My parents would never let me do it). I had gained a solid 10 or 15 lbs. that summer to add to the several I already possessed overweight. Heroin chic I was not, but maybe I could go skater/raver/punk. The girls at school already didn't quite get me, so who would care?

That year I clad myself in funky vintage sweaters and JNCO. I lied to cut off my hair, and desperately searched out an identity that wasn't entirely centered on singing. I didn't think I was able to be who I desperately wanted to be, so I had to find an alternative.