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I wasn’t a debater by nature and somewhere along the way had come to believe that what I felt, if it couldn’t be articulated or defended, was invalid.
Something hurt, deep in some place I couldn’t see or name.
Even then, I could taste the shame that would follow me for a lifetime.
But I hadn’t learned my lesson, it seemed. I’d never stopped wanting things that weren’t mine.
He had both made me and ruined me.
What made a girl a woman?
