In spring of 2012, I re-enrolled at the University of Massachusetts Boston, the school I had dropped out of in 2007 and again in 2010. I was twenty-six, not quite divorced yet, and about eight months pregnant at the time. I remember I had to meet with the one of the staff members who ran my school’s orientation, so that I could talk him into letting me skip out on it. I just didn’t see myself dragging a newborn into the auditorium and running through a series of meet-and-greet exercises with teenage freshmen.
I told the staff member I planned to start classes in the fall. He took one look at my belly and asked me, “Are you sure about that?”
There’s an incredible pressure on women like the one I was when I first went back to school, but also a deafening chorus of voices, many of these the…
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