The Unsent Appeal Chapter 10
If I didn’t want to be cast aside so easily again, I needed a life that didn’t depend on them.
Looks were just one kind of advantage. I could still build a career of my own.
Thank God I had realized that in time.
After dyeing my hair dark again, I went to Grafton Street.
I stepped into a boutique and picked out a sharply tailored green suit.
The old me would never have touched a color like that.
I had kept myself locked inside a world of black, white, and gray, forgetting that those had only ever been the safest choices—the ones least likely to draw criticism.
Carrying my shopping bags, I walked down the brightly lit street, taking in the unfamiliar shops and the Dublin night.
A woman passed by me.
She was curvy, not the type to grace a magazine cover.
But she was wearing a bright red dress and heels, her chin held high, her stride confident and steady.
In that moment, I relaxed completely.
She wasn’t “perfect,” but she didn’t need anyone’s permission to wear what she liked.
I could live like that, too.
My face wouldn’t change, but I could hold my head high and make myself the center of my own life.
That night, I felt like I was starting over.
My mood grew lighter and lighter.
The atmosphere in the house in Wellesley, meanwhile, grew heavier by the day.
After learning about my new position, my parents called again and again, only to be met with my voicemail.
They even went back to my company and tried to get my coworkers to contact me.
Once my coworkers heard what had happened at the new house, every one of them refused.
They said they had no right to interfere in my private life and would not call me on behalf of family members without my express permission.
Over the next few days, my parents wore perpetually dark expressions.