Where I grew up, girls were taught that becoming a housewife was our divine purpose.

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We were taught that love was servitude, that devotion meant sitting back, yielding our own desires. I tried like hell to follow the script I inherited —written by laws, by religion, by those who feared independent, powerful women. 

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I married him. I played the role until I outgrew this exoskeleton that encased me. 

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I will never again shrink myself to fit inside someone else’s version of me.

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I am not a wife. I am not a vessel. I am mine.