I was born in the United States but in a weird twist of fate instead of being raised here for most of my childhood I was raised in Mexico. I lived in a very tiny town in Mexico with my mother for about half the first 10 years of my life. The other half I spent with my dad when I could come and visit him in the united states. I don’t remember most of my childhood and part of me thinks I chose not to. My parents were separated, not by choice but by necessity my dad was a U.S citizen living in the United States my mother lived in Mexico it was hard for them and it was hard for me, living in a small town where everyone knew everyone I would get told by my classmates that I didn't have a dad, and I was bulled because of my weight. It hurts me and
