Not too long ago, a friend sent me up with a blind date, a handsome guy, but he probably

spent more time in his hair than I did. He seemed pleasant enough, so I introduced myself

and sat down next to him. He laughed and shook his head.

I pictures you differently, he admitted, I mean you're beautiful, but I thought you'd

be strawberry blonde, I interrupted a bit shorter, freckled with deep dimple cheeks. He stopped

laughing, but kept a frozen smile. He didn't know what to say. I just stared at him. I knew

this was going to happen, so why did I ever think this time would be different? Was that

it? I pushed, was that what you pictured? I didn't even notice that I'd raised my voice.

The date was already over, and as I started screaming at him. Was that what you got

then pictured? I had already screwed up. At that point, all I could do was lean into it.

Let me explain. This has always been the story of my life. People remember me wrong, they

picture me wrong, even my parents could swear that I used to be strawberry blonde as a kid.

He was in a single picture of me with that hair collar. I don't have freckles or deep

dimples that made my cheeks pop up. I'm tall with ink black hair. I got Mediterranean

features from my Italian mom, and that doesn't allow for a lot of cutie freckles. Still,

every person I've met remembers me that way. Sometimes, when we haven't met for a while,

they barely recognise me. One of the most common questions I get is whether or not I've

done something with my hair. It is really frustrating when I have to show my ID, as people just

seem hesitant to accept the way I look to be the real me. And yes, I've tried leaning

into it, changing my hair collar, even putting on freckles with a makeup pen. It doesn't

help. It still just looks kind of... off. The weird thing is, sometimes I even trick

myself. Some mornings, I don't recognise my own mirror image. For a split second, like

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