I was seventeen when my life split into something unrecognizable, though I didn’t have the language for it then. I only knew I had two newborn daughters, no real support, and a future that suddenly felt like something fragile I had to carry carefully through each day. My parents made their position clear almost immediately. They said I had ruined everything. Within days, I was out, trying to stay afloat with Lily and Mae pressed against my chest in a worn sling while I held onto school like it was the last solid ground left. By November of 1998, survival...
Continues…