June 3, 2026

Facing My Reflection: The Moment I Decided I Wouldn’t Teach Young Girls to Die

This new specialist, a woman with kind eyes and a calm demeanor, starts with questions.

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“How have you been feeling lately?”

Her voice is steady, a contrast to the turmoil inside me.

“Tired,” I admit, the word barely wrapping around the depth of my fatigue.

She nods, making notes, her pen a soft scratching sound in the quiet room.

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“Any changes in appetite or energy levels?”

The questions continue, each one probing beneath the surface.

I answer as best I can, the responses feeling inadequate to convey the full picture.

“We’re going to do a few tests today, if that’s alright.”

Her tone is gentle, seeking consent rather than demanding it.

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