As I walked through the airport security line to take off my shoes, my shoes weren’t the only thing missing.
There was the passport, my laptop and my wallet.
But there was also the backpack.
I was on my way to the airport from New York to Paris.
I had been traveling with the aid of a backpack for the past six months, and it was a big step up from my usual travel bags.
But I wasn’t expecting to leave anything behind.
It was just a backpack.
I’d already spent several months living off my backpack, and as I walked toward the check-in desk, I found myself looking at a photo of my daughter on my phone.
I asked her what it was, and she said it was her backpack.
My daughter was five years old.
I looked up at the young woman and said, “Wow, I’m so proud of you.”
It was then that I realized how much my mother had struggled with the issue.
When I was young, my mother would take the backpack off my back and carry it on my shoulder all the way to school.
She was always wearing it.
I don’t think she ever gave up her backpack for me.
I was shocked, to be honest, that my mother was struggling with the same issues as I was.
The backpack issue is a big one, especially for women, who are often expected to carry their own belongings.
The other issue, in my mind, is that it doesn’t fit my gender identity.
As a woman, I felt trapped.
I felt like I couldn’t be myself.
When I was in my early 20s, I started to feel trapped in my gender and had to fight for myself to be who I wanted to be.
I began to feel as though I wasn