The Race to Find Myself

The clues to the great secret were always there, but growing up in a neat-as-a-pin beige ranch house in northeast Portland, Oregon, in the 1980s, Amanda Campbell could never connect them. It was like trying to see the outline of a forest made of mirror trees. Supposedly she had two baby books; someone had half-joked about it long ago--back when everyone was still talking--but she could only ever open the pink ribbony one filled out in her mother's flawless script, the one that told how much she weighed, ate, and slept in her first year of life, that described the gymnastics and dance classes she took, the words she babbled before she was five. Continue reading at Elle.

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