I thought about matching my hair to my brother's wedding this upcoming weekend, but I couldn't get the right color aqua, plus I didn't want to overshadow the bride.

So I am pink again and pink hair makes you make new friends on the street. And pink hair makes you walking art and makes for a nice field of vision when the wind blows it in front of your eyes.

This is what it looks like on top of my head like a stick of cotton candy.

This is what it looks like long.

I think pink is a summer color. It is also a me color. I am becoming a summer girl again. When I was super fat, I was a fall girl. All browns and amber orange. Fat girls hide behind brown and black. It is easy to hide. So easy to hide when one is so large. How does that work? I wish I could remember. I am still big, but can't, won't hide. Last summer was taken from me by a smallish doctor with big round glasses who sent me to bed for months, then complained when I gained 80 pounds. Pregnant with twins, I remained hidden in bed and huge jammy pants while the Washington sun burned late into the night. Hidden when I should have been seen. Hidden when I should have been celebrated. That was my bed rest summer. My baby summer. My hospital summer.

But this is my my my summer. I am taking it back. And I will use it to sweat anyway the baby pounds and Rachi will get tall and grow like a weed and Anya's chin will get pointy-er and we will all thin out and by fall all the reminders of our birth and our hiding will be gone. We will have our summer, the one that was taken from us and we won't complain about the heat or the sun.

We won't hide. Not now. Not ever. We will be bold with our pink wedding hair. We will be bold with whoever we become.