Darianne Greenwood

Why is my hair only pretty when it’s a lusciously flowing down my neck? Why does my face only brighten your day when it’s painted with pink lips or brown eyeshadow? Why am I only beautiful the days I’m considerably someone else? Am I not accepted for who I really am?

She told me that night, that she knew she wasn’t going to last much longer, and not to put my life on hold because of her. Those words stuck with me as I boarded the plane, landed in my new home.