The thing about growing up homeschooled in an insular, paranoid household is that it’s not just about missing out on algebra or forgetting how to properly punctuate a sentence. It’s about never being equipped with the foundational skills that make existing in society feel like second nature. The kind of stuff no one thinks to teach because it’s supposed to be absorbed through osmosis—like knowing when to chime in during a conversation without derailing it, or understanding that birthday parties are for eating too much cake and not quietly wondering why no one ever invites you to theirs.
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