Confessions of a Recovering Group-aphobic

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I have to admit, I’ve had a fear of groups for as long as I can remember. My phobia probably dates back to elementary school when I was scorned for wearing “the wrong kind of headband.” High school was a time of stick straight hair. And no matter how many times I ironed mine, it still went BOING. An apt metaphor for an artsy-craftsy non-conformist. There were The Mean Girls, The Nice Girls, The Cheerleaders and The Sluts. Since I never … [Read more...]