Jacqueline LeKachman

A few weeks before moving out of my parents’ house for college, I stumbled upon a grainy Polaroid of my mom in her 20s. I stared, dumbfounded, as two questions formed in my mind. First, who was this person? And second ― why didn’t I know her? The mom I knew threatened to divorce my dad frequently and required me to wear camisoles under shirts to cover my stomach. We fought often about when I…