“You should wear brighter colored clothes, like you did in Sunday School.  All this black is making you look depressed.  You were so happy as a child.”

And the Emmy goes to…….  Me.

*sighs*  My mother….

Delusional enough to assume that me having a favorite color, which is not HERS is what makes me “look” depressed.

MANY things can send me in a downward spiral.  My choice of clothing is not one of them.  I happen to love black, but it is by no means the only thing I wear.  It’s just the only one she chooses to complain about.

As a child, most of my clothing was handmade.  Cult living doesn’t really procure much in the ways of financial comfortability.  If you were lucky, not all of your clothing was a hand-me-down from an older sibling.  Black was forbidden…