On Hats and Hindrances
The day I took off my hat I felt liberated. After four years of marriage, during which time I accumulated an extensive array of berets, caps, scarves, snoods, and other popular and not-so-popular designs for hair-hiding, I walked out of my apartment with my own long brown mane completely exposed. I felt ten years younger. And I had the tingling sensation that I could actually feel who I was, once again — rediscovering that part of me, that fresh and vivacious young woman who had somehow gotten lost beneath layers of cloth — on the head, the arms, and the legs. I didn’t even realize how missing I had been until I found myself again.