“This is not okay,” I declared, looking them both in the eye. “What you did was not about letting Hannah shine. It was about control, about making sure I stayed in my place. But I refuse to let you or anyone else decide my worth.”

My father shifted uncomfortably, and my mother opened her mouth to speak, but I held up a hand. “No excuses. I’m done with this narrative. I’m done letting you dictate who I should be or how I should look.”

The silence was profound, but I didn’t need their words. I needed them to listen, to understand that things had changed. I walked out of that room with a weight lifted from my shoulders, knowing that I had finally reclaimed part of myself.