You rush past the mirror in the hall, ignoring its pleas to second-guess you, question your existence, challenge your choice of clothes, your make-up, your hair. You are nineteen, your freshly washed hair brushed and falling down your back, your face cleansed and without make-up, your underwear clean but old, your shorts cut down from… Continue reading When You Don’t Believe You but #IBelieveHer, a short story of protest.
Margot McCuaig 