Life Isn't Fair

This is strange. I’m writing my story so that I can allow others the opportunity to not feel so lonely. But I do not know where I should be gin. Should I begin in elementary school where everyone told me I should comb my own hair? Or in middle school when I was told that my nose looked like I had run into a door but it never came back out like a cartoon, wide and flat? Or maybe being called an “Oreo” by the people I was raised to call my own? Then again, there was high school where I was alienated because I did not look like what either predominate race wanted me to look like and my one passion, soccer, I was excluded from because my parents weren’t willing to pay the school. Then, of course, there is college where a man took every bit of self-respect I had causing me to demean myself fin everywhere. And because of my forgiving spirit which my parents were so proud of he later became one of the most uplifting people in my life. Or should I discuss the “friends” who smiled in my face told me to trust in “female sexual liberation” and spread gossip about me and broke the phenomenal woman I had become.