When I was 4 years old, I was playing with a friend at summer camp. I called her a wolf, which for me was a compliment because I thought wolves were cool. She looked angry and advanced at me as if wanting to hit me. I started to take off running, but only got as far as turning around and running face first into a tree. Nine years later, when I was 13 years old, my mom looked at my nose, felt the bridge of it, and pronounced it broken.