To My Moon,

In my childhood, I did not play with dolls excited to be a mother; in adulthood, my inner child felt scared of becoming a paradox of a mother like mine; kind, caring, protective, and devastatingly fleeting. I am a child of rejection—born after the death of my brother. I was the first of a long line of women in pursuit of a male o…

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Dear Four-eyes,

You were always proud of being called that. It meant that you embodied being one of the “smart kids.” There was nothing more important to you than school. After all, despite your circumstances, you were “student of the month” and in the honors program. I am so proud of you for never letting your environment define your future…

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