الصوت المشترك

“I stopped talking to my mom… because of how she raised me.” Growing up, she never let me do anything the other girls did. No long braids. No acrylic nails. Just kiddy hairstyles, beads, bows… even into middle school. I’d look at other girls and think— why can’t I be like them? I felt ugly. Like… genuinely ugly. I hated looking in the mirror. And the worst part? She never understood why it hurt me so much. Go to part two.