I tried to avoid mirrors. I would pass them and instantly look away. My eyes were always cast down as I brushed my teeth, and my back turned as I changed clothes. Don’t get me started on the moments...

Mom thrusts it into my arms out of a dust-covered storage bin. A smile graces her face as her fingers run over the embroidered letters: OLE MISS. That wasn’t an expression I saw on Mom’s face often....