so there i was, 11 years old, telling my therapist about the first time i felt totally betrayed by a friend, and she asks what i was wearing like it matters. like somehow my lime green fanny pack and sparkly butterfly clips were the reason i lost that stupid game of truth or dare, ugh
i was standing in the kitchen just staring at the bag of flour thinking how weird it is that it’s just been sitting there for weeks, like i always think about baking something but never actually do it and now it feels like this weird reminder of things i planned and never did, like how many other things in life just sit there waiting for me to actually make a move, even if it's just a dumb cake.
yaar, matlab samjho na, mera ek dost hai jo achhe achhe restaurants me khana khata hai, jabki main apne chhote se apartment me instant noodles se zindagi guzar raha hoon, aur ghar wale aaj bhi samajhte hain ke bus paet ka problem hai, unhe kya pata ke asli problem kya hai, koi samajhta nahi, sabko sirf success dikh raha hai.
yaar, matlab samjho na, mera ek dost hai jo achhe achhe restaurants me khana khata hai, jabki main apne chhote se apartment me instant noodles se zindagi guzar raha hoon, aur ghar wale aaj bhi samajhte hain ke bus paet ka problem hai, unhe kya pata ke asli problem kya hai, koi samajhta nahi, sabko sirf success dikh raha hai.
so i just realized i can no longer walk to the park without feeling everyone's eyes judging me and my kid like we’re a walking billboard for something terrible. how is it that one little person can turn your whole neighborhood into a place where you feel like an outcast?