Behind every white picket fence, there is a story we don't know.
M has everything; a big beautiful house, a loving doctor husband, the smartest sweetest boy ever and an autistic daughter.
Likewise, when others look upon ny life and the pictures that I showed... Do they see the white picket fence that we see everyday?
The white picket fence that we hide behind?
Cause sometimes we want things to be alright.
We want people to think we are fine...
And we feel fine?
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