In searching for myself, I began returning to old photographs.
And to my surprise, I discovered that I did not remember many of them — even though my daughters and I had looked through them together many times.
In those images, I was searching for answers to the questions:
What was I like? What did I enjoy? Who was I before I began adapting myself to the world?
Before I started becoming the person I was “supposed” to be.
The person expected by the system, my surroundings, culture, and religion.
It felt as though I was discovering those photographs — and myself — all over again.
I do not know how old I was then.
I do not remember clearly what I was like.
But when I look at those photographs, I see a little girl with a book and a notebook.
Perhaps it was a coincidence.
Perhaps she was posing without even realising it.