Not now, you’re too young,” my mom insists when I’m 10.

Not now, you’re still too young, “my mom asserts when I’m 12.

Not now.  Wait until you’re an adult. By then you won’t want them,” my mom concludes when I’m 16.

But now, I’m 18, a sophomore in college, and my mom lives thousands of miles away.

I’ve wanted this for so long. My girlfriends tell me to go for it. “You’re a grown up now; there’s nothing to be afraid of,” claims my roommate Pam.

Yes, my roommate and I have the same name, and she matches me in so many other ways: she wears her brown hair long; she thinks she’s in love with her boyfriend; she’s tall and nice-looking; she’s creative. But she has one thing I don’t. Continue reading