But I learned every rose has its thorns, / and every body has its demons.
Just turn off the switch, / stand in front of a mirror, / and you will see / that you are already what you’re meant to be.
My body is not a thing, my body is who I am. Through it, you can see my history, my culture, my experiences, my successes and my failures. It tells my story more clearly than any words I can speak.
My six-year-old sister, whose lively spirit I adore more than anything else, whose shameless inquisitiveness I’ve learned to inherit, whose glee and merriment supplied my sombreness with color, despised her physical appearance.