Artwork by Rachel Genito I stole my mother’s razor the first time I shaved and prayed she wouldn’t notice. It was fourth grade. I had nothing but Youtube and a dream and inexplicable shame about my sudden desire to change. Is this what it means to be a woman? I wondered, as little dots of blood emerged from my thighs. Will I be a woman when I look new? I know how to shave, now. Most of the time, there isn’t any blood. Tonight, I prepare myself for an Everything Shower, my biblical rebirth. An...