Next chapter; Obsolete

I remember when my mother hated my music, and she used to get infuriated when I would buy a CD. When I started changing my appearance from her little girl in pink to someone who no longer wanted to wear skirts. She made me hate her a little that year. I never understood why colors were such a big deal? Why liking piercings meant I was a horrible child let’s not even go on tattoo’s now. They were only for prisoners and drug attacks. All that time I couldn’t understand, I still don’t. Expressing yourself the way you want to is so valuable and acceptance is worthwhile. Especially when creating bonds. This movie spoke to much to me, because when the parent’s say they didn’t understand why the girls committed suicide, I was reeling.