I’ve been growing my mullet for five years now, out on the outskirts where the roads crack easy and the style sticks hard. My older sister was the one who hyped me up to start it—said I had the attitude to pull it off—and she’s been my biggest supporter ever since. I go to the same barber every few months, a guy who knows exactly how to keep the sides tight and the back flowing just right. What started as a bit of fun turned into something real—a part of who I am. It’s five years of commitment, confidence, and a little grit running down the back of my neck.