I look out the window. The part of me that wants to please her thinks maybe she’s right, maybe it is my favorite thing and I just don’t know it, I just don’t realize it. But the part of me that doesn’t want to cry on cue, that doesn’t want to act, that doesn’t care about pleasing Mom and just wants to please me, that part of me screams at me to speak up. My face gets hot, compelling me to say something.
