That was the day I stopped wearing makeup, the day i stopped hating her. The day I stopped blaming her for my existence. It doesn't take an emotional mature adult to make a human-being. It wasn't her fault that I was here. I was here, and I thought to myself, I might as well do something about it. It didn't have to be something great, although everything from congresswoman to nun has crossed my mind. It wasn't really about what it was, but how it made me feel.
Yes, on that day I stopped living for her approval. For both of their approvals. It didn't matter if they accepted me or not. It didn't matter if I was straight or gay. I was worthy, regardless. I stopped sending them photos, grades, letters, postcards and reportcards. It didn't matter if they knew I was doing good or not. I knew I was doing well, I knew I was a good person. My heart had grown so big, and the hole that I once believed could only be filled by them, began to be filled by much, much more.