My hair was my feminist movement.

Photo by Alexander Krivitskiy on Unsplash

I had a dream last night. I was 17 in my 25 year old body.

I got off the school bus, listening to radiohead.

You float like a feather, in a beautiful world.

Still best ever written lyrics.

I walked through the school door with a few friends who looked 17. I have always had the shortest skirt which caused me to be picked on by the…