When the Dreaded Question Becomes my Strength

The soft tan leather armchair cushioned the blow as the twenty-five-year-old girl training me at my new job posited the dreaded question: “Do you have any kids?” Rubbing her nine-month-pregnant belly, my gaze fell to the floor as she casually added, “My ankles are so swollen! I am so ready to be done with this!” With barelyContinue reading “When the Dreaded Question Becomes my Strength”