When I was seven years old, I would put my school book bag on both my shoulders and had it sit plumb in the middle of my back, as backpacks were made to do.
在我七岁那年,我会用双肩背书包,让它处在我背部的正中央,感觉双肩包就应该这么背。
One morning, when it was so frigid outside you could barely muster getting out of bed, my older brother joined me at the bus stop, and told me I was wearing my backpack wrong. He grabbed it, tossed it over my right shoulder with both straps on the same side and said, “There, that’s better.”
某天早晨,外面寒风萧瑟,冷到你根本不想起床,我的哥哥跟我一同在车站等车,他告诉我我的双肩包背错了。他一把抓过来,将书包和两侧的背带甩至我的右肩,然后说“看,这就好多了。”
Then he said, “You’re not pretty, so you have to try harder. OK?”
然后他说,“你不漂亮,所以你要更加努力,明白吗?”
I stayed smiling because even at a young age, I understood the importance of pretending to not have emotions. In my household, it was a matter of survival. But what he said crushed me.
我的笑容凝固了,因为即便在青少年时期,我也知道假装不露声色的重要性。在我家里,这是一种生存技能。但是他说的让我感到崩塌。
Soon thereafter, I started picking up on the signs one receives when they aren’t attractive. This was made more complicated because I had a lot of friends and people who, for the most part, liked me. I was good at sports. I had various musical talents and up until life completely fell apart at home, I was a good student. I was also a fighter so people didn’t dare make fun of me overtly, at least before growth spurts kicked in and the playing field was still even.
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