The Woman Who Changed My Thinking
I grew up in a comfortable home with parents who loved me. They provided my education, bought me everything I needed, and never allowed me to feel abandoned.
But there was one thing I wanted that they could not simply hand to me.
I wanted my own money.
I wanted to enter a room without wondering who had paid for my clothes. I wanted to buy something expensive without asking my father for help. Most of all, I wanted to prove that I could become successful without depending on anyone.
There was nothing wrong with that dream.
Unfortunately, I allowed the wrong person to convince me that independence meant taking shortcuts.
Her name was Beatrice.
I met her at university during my second year. She was older than me, confident, fashionable, and always surrounded by people who seemed eager to please her.
I called her my school mother because she gave me advice about everything, from dressing well to handling difficult professors.
