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This glass object—delicate and yet still intact, somewhat like myself—was proof that I could be brave, adventurous, and do hard things on my own.
Why did we go to such lengths to protect the fragile minds of children? We only robbed them of the truth—and the chance to grow numb to it before it arrived with a hard knock on the door.
How had I only just learned that happiness and fulfillment were entirely distinct things?
Everything placed unto the body removes something from it, calls it forth or represses it.
