Everything in her life had been a succession of things she hadn’t really wanted to do, expectations she felt obliged to follow: getting married just so she was able to leave her father’s house, moving to a small southern town because that’s where her husband worked, having children because that’s what the women in her life had all done, settling for a dull job because that was the practical thing to do for the kids’ schedules. All this for no other reason other than to prove herself to the world, or was it to herself? To prove that she could make something of herself without giving up on
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