By the end of the school year I’d grown a second brain that constantly monitored my behavior: checking every pronunciation for a lispy S, reminding me not to hum Paula Abdul too loudly, and taking note of my posture at all times to ensure I wasn’t resting on my hip. When I wasn’t monitoring myself, I was monitoring everyone else, especially boys—figuring out what mimicked social cues would keep me safe until 4 p.m., when I was home safe in my bedroom, voguing.
Source: salon.com