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Identity
Four photos. Four moments. Four versions of me: reader, grad, exec, author. And yet, they’re all the same “me,” just wearing different hats along the way. It starts in kindergarten. I can still feel the excitement of that morning — slipping into my new red-and-grey uniform, smoothing the crisp white terylene blouse, standing in line for school photos. The instructions were simple: “Pick something on the table for your picture.” I chose a book. Not because I could read (I c
marielynnedesroche
3 days ago3 min read
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