Braided

Mom always meticulously braided my hair tightly, so tight that it pulled a clear path on top of my head. But one day, she cut off my braids. I didn't want to resist, yet I had to accept it.
As I took my first steps forward alone, my stride faltered. Along the path on my head, I touched our unbreakable inner attachment, and the journey of female growth we were both unprepared to face.