…is not what you wanted me to wear for Halloween. I wanted to be one of those girls in the comic books, spinning around in high-heeled boots, high-strung ponytails, and miniskirts. You convinced me to be Mulan. It was the 90’s, after all. And she was pretty cool. I guess. I loved it more when I realized she had a sword. I planned to cut my hair with it. But when I asked for her sword, you handed me a fan, told me to have fun with my friends. My best friend wore a real kimono that year – all thick and purple and bright – her father brought it back from Japan. We were both Mulan. I guess. But she loved her fan and silk and uppy hair up-do. Mine had already taken a tumble for the worse. And that is exactly what I see, many years later, as I stare in the mirror – finally in my boots. I keep them on when I sit at the keyboard and type in her name M-U-L-A-N The truth comes after H-U-A After twelve years of fighting, and dying, and winning, and fighting by her side, China didn’t even know she was a woman. They couldn’t have cared less at all.