I’d always felt caught between the expectations of what “masculine” and “feminine” should look like—until one day, I decided to rewrite the rules. I walked into the salon with a determined heart and a simple request: a haircut that defied traditional labels. As the stylist’s scissors began to dance through my hair, I felt layers of societal assumptions fall away.

The result was a bold, asymmetric style: one side buzzed short, the other long and flowing. In that mirror, I didn’t see a man or a woman—I saw my truest self, unbound by norms. The liberation was intoxicating, and for the first time, I felt entirely comfortable in my own skin.