It was never my intention to hurt or frustrate my grandmother, but it felt so important she know, that all my family know, I was not coming back because I was not the same person, and I could not, would not pretend. Really it was for their own good. I complicated the narrative they wanted to live by, and it didn’t bother me until it bothered them. I didn’t want to run from my family. I wanted to be who I was, and I didn’t know if that person fit among them anymore. I was afraid to find out that I wouldn’t. My lessons hadn’t always come the way I wanted or hoped, but I was not ashamed of how I
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