When I finally decided that I wanted to go to culinary school it was my last few months of living in the shelter. I told my mother that I wanted to follow my mark and go for culinary.. she was… less than pleased. My mother told me that it was an idiotic idea, that I was going to end up in financial difficulties, and that I was going to be stuck in a dead end job because it was a useless skill. My stepfather told me that he knew I wouldn’t be able to stick with dental hygiene.. that he knew I wouldn’t be able to do it. My own father.. well he just laughed and said “Well now you can go to that fag school I heard about on the radio.” 

   I was already struggling and all this negative treatment from my own family.. threw me even deeper into my depression to the point where I started self harming again. I thought that is maybe, maybe if I cut my cutie mark off I would get one that my family would be proud of. I felt like such a stupid mare.. I just wanted to fade away.. I was 19 almost 20 living in a homeless shelter and I felt like a failure. 

(last page of the cutiemark story )