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You’d mistaken my anxiety-driven silence and avoidance for snobbery

“Mommy, I love public school, but why do I feel better and more accepted in a school like this?”

I was traumatized; not by the birth itself, but at the belief that I’d failed: as a student, as a woman, as a mother

You don’t know all that, and you still sent over flowers to show that you’re happy for me

I’m so happy you’re engaged, but what’s with all the expectations?

I see you yearning for a connection, and it breaks my heart, but I can’t provide it