It’s never been easy for me to be manly. Father figures have tended to let me down, sports have left me cold, and until recently, most of my best friends have been women. But recently, entering my 30’s and newfound "adulthood" have thrust me, a little unwillingly, into manhood. Other people have begun to see me as a guy first and foremost and the muddy gender roles of college and my tempestuous 20’s have started to fade away. It’s not a bad thing, even though my emo younger self whines, bitches and pouts about it in the back of my mind. I’m sort of enjoying becoming a dude.

Which is why I’ve decided to embark on that manliest of male rituals: An experiment in facial hair. Yes, in a few days I too will be scaring babies and looking swarthier than usual. I have no plans to purchase a gun rack (much less a gun) or start writing country-twinged folk rock on my back porch, but it will be interesting to see where this goes. Worst case scenario, I’ll have a mini identity crisis and settle for an extra-long pair of mutton chops.