There is a picture of my mother that I absolutely adore, this is the best I can do to explain it.
She's 14.
My mother stands outside in front of the crepe myrtle bushes that still bloom today, holding her unwanted ninth birthday present, Sam. Little did she know, that cat would be with her for the next 22 years.
With radiant blonde hair and a soft smile, she's natural.
Wearing a shirt from her dad's closet and a huge belt buckle, she could go on the cover of a 1991 magazine.
Soon, she cut off nearly all of the flowing blonde locks and her hair grew in dark. I recently realized that I also cut off my hair, in an attempt to regain some control in our lives.
Because we both wanted a change.
We needed a change.
