When people look at my life now, they usually assume I was born into something special. Connections. Money. Some hidden advantage.
I was born in a small village in Romania. The kind of place where everyone knows everyone, and yet no one really knows you. My father died when I was six years old.
I don’t remember much about his voice anymore, but I remember the silence that followed after he was gone. My mother had to work two jobs just to keep food on the table.
“She was exhausted all the time. Not cold. Not cruel. Just tired beyond what a human being should be.”