As I got older, the teasing became quieter, but it never truly disappeared.
Adults didn’t pull on my ears anymore. Instead, they looked a second too long before pretending they hadn’t noticed.
I learned to hide them.
My hair was always down.
No ponytails.
No buns.
No swimming unless I could keep my hair dry.
Even on windy days, I’d catch myself checking whether a strand had slipped behind one ear.
People probably thought it was a minor insecurity.
To me, it shaped almost every decision I made.
Continue on the next page:
