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Taking back my name. Telling my story.
"I'm going to call you Rebecca. I don't want them to know you're the same Becky from before."
Who said it and when is irrelevant. What matters is I believed him, and all the others with similar messages. The thing is, even as Rebecca, even with all my twisting and turning and people-pleasing-contortions, even then, I still wasn't enough.
Until I knew I was.
Today you can call me Becky. Or Rebecca. I'll answer to either, and I'll come as I am...which is anything but basic. So save the pumpkin spiced lattes for another girl with good hair. I'll take a strong shot of the truth.
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