“Your hair is yours. You get to decide what to do with it,” I assured her. “You get to decide how you show up in this world. No one else gets to dictate to you who you are,” Stef said. I knew he was saying it for Waylay’s benefit, but the truth resonated deep down inside me too. I’d lost myself while trying to convince someone else that I was what he wanted. I’d forgotten who I was because I’d let someone else take over the definition. “Okay,” Waylay said. “But if I hate it, I’m going to blame you guys.” “Let’s do this,” I said with conviction. “There she is,” Stef said, booping my nose and
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