When my family joined the church when I was about 11 years old, we were different. We stood out, for more than one reason. For one, we looked different. We were the only black members in that ward… probably one of —if not THE only active family in the stake. But it wasn’t just that. My dad worked, and my mom worked. Two working parents wasn’t a total anomaly, but it did make for some awkward feelings whenever the topic of mothers being at home with their kids came up.
Sometimes I feel like I’ve been put on this earth just to prove that there’s no cookie cutter shape that everyone fits into.
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