My family often teased me, calling me “Tom” for my tomboy style—baggy pants and a t-shirt—despite being a 19-year-old blonde with brown eyes. At dinner one evening, my little brother Timmy cracked his usual joke, and everyone laughed, even Mom, though she tried to stop them. I didn’t mind much—it's all in good fun. But as the laughter echoed in my ears, I started wondering if I was ready to outgrow the joke and be somethi...