It started shortly after I had my first child. I was leaving the building on the Upper West Side where we lived at the time and the doorman said “have a nice day, mom.” This man was approximately my age, so I was definitively not his mom. I was very new to being anyone’s mom, actually, and hearing that was jarring. To be fair, I’ve been called variations of “mother” well before I had children. I’ve had “hey mami” shouted at me from many a car window and more than one fine gentleman has asked me “what’s up, ma?” as...