My Blood On Your Sheets

Summary

My mother always said: A plant that isn’t pruned will grow wild and useless.

I was the tree they pruned down to a stump.

From the age of five, I learned to keep my joy locked down—it was "getting ahead of myself."

I couldn't cry when I was bullied—because, as my father said, "Flies only land on open sores."

If I scored an A- on an AP exam, my parents would only ask, “Where are the other two points? Are you getting lazy?”

When relatives praised me for being quiet and polite, my parents would publicly cut them off: “She’s acting. At home, she’s as lazy as a pig. Don’t let her fool you.”