The first time I sweat through my shirt, I was in eighth grade. It was a lime green Lacoste polo (aka the chicest piece of clothing circa 2004) that my mom had surprised me with, and I walked into school with the collar popped, feeling beyond excited to show off my trendy new tee. But when it came time to raise my hand in second period math class, I knew something was wrong. Despite the fact that I had coated my underarms with deodorant that morning, as I had every day since I was 8 years old, there were two massive sweat stains creeping their way around my armpits.
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