Feeling Different and Wanting to Tell My Story

Feeling Different and Wanting to Tell My Story

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Feeling Different and Wanting to Tell My Story

The memory is impeccably clear in my mind, tied up tightly in the damp smell of chlorine. I’m sitting on a bench in a humid concrete room while my peers splash boisterously around in the pool. They in their swimsuits, me in the required gym uniform. They, “normal.” Me, “the other,” and feeling different. I can’t imagine that many middle school kids in the Midwest look forward in February to changing into a swimsuit in…

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