The Birthday Party Where My Mother’s Perfect Image Cracked

up. Almost always attached to Lauren.

“Lauren, your hair looks perfect.”

“Lauren, that essay was perfect.”

With me, it was different.

“Erica, tuck your shirt in. You look sloppy.”

“Erica, you really should wear more makeup.”

I learned early that love, in our house, felt very similar to criticism.

When I was seventeen, I brought home a report card with two continue reading …