Learning to Trust Myself
Names have been changed. Growing up, I believed my family was a close one. My siblings and I spent time together, and we traveled every year to new places as a family. We lived in an apartment in East Harlem and I felt comfortable living with my parents, who mostly seemed to care for me. […]
Read MoreAccepting My Mom’s Limits
When I was 8 years old, I asked my mother why I’d never met her parents. She said, “My dad was a very cruel man, and every night, he would come into my room and do terrible things to me. My mother knew, and she did nothing to help me.” When she was in 4th […]
Read MoreMy Father’s New Family
Names have been changed. It was Christmas Eve, just after my 12th birthday. My parents had divorced earlier that year, and I had just found out that my dad had already married someone else. I’d never even met his girlfriend-now-wife. My dad picked up my younger sister Ana and me outside our mom’s to take […]
Read MoreSecond Time’s the Charm
I was 7 years old when I was walking on the orange leaf covered sidewalk outside my elementary school, with Ma right by my side. My attention was laser focused on a friend group of three Bengali girls. I was staring at their matching glitter turquoise slip-on head coverings. I tugged on Ma’s sweater sleeve. […]
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