My Dissertation Wasn’t the Only Thing Defended That Day

I locked myself inside the bathroom and stared at my reflection. My hair had been hacked into uneven patches, and my eyes were swollen from crying. For several minutes I couldn’t move, but eventually my shock gave way to determination.

I ordered a rideshare, packed my dissertation, my presentation materials, and a fresh suit into a backpack, then quietly walked out the front door. Hunter shouted after me while Barbara demanded I come back, but I never turned around.

I spent the night in a small hotel, sleeping only a few hours before borrowing scissors from the front desk to trim my damaged hair into something presentable. It wasn’t perfect, but it no longer mattered. I wasn’t going there to impress anyone with my appearance.

As the sun rose, I buttoned my navy suit, picked up my notes, and walked toward the university with my head held high. I had no idea the hardest part of my life was already behind me-

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