“I can be anything that I want to be,” that is what my grandmother told me. And guess what? I believed her. When it comes to raising children, words really matter. What you tell your children becomes their inner voice.
My grandmother lived with us. Her room was my sanctuary. She was a painter, and I was the creative one. I fit in there. I was not obsessed with sports or competition like my siblings; I loved fashion, art, music, and beautiful things. My grandmother had all of those things. Her room was where I went to just be me.
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