I was six years old when I was humiliated for the first time.
“You stink!”
“Do you live in the garbage dump?”
“Son of a garbage collector, ha ha ha!”
Each laugh felt like a stone thrown at me. I wanted to disappear, to sink into the ground.
That night, I cried quietly so my mother wouldn’t hear me.
When she noticed, she gently asked, “Son, why are you so sad?”
I forced a smile. “Nothing, Mom. I’m just tired.”
But inside, my heart was breaking.
