“A girl said we’re ugly because we’re different.”
Her words pierced like thorns — sharp, careless, heavy.
But my boys only smiled, still chasing sunlight across the playground,

laughing like the world could never bruise them.
They don’t yet understand how language can cut,
or how some people fear what they don’t recognize.

Then I watched one gently fix his brother’s glasses,
fingers small yet full of tenderness,
and I realized — love is louder than insult.
Their differences are not flaws; they are constellations.
Rare. Bright. Irreplaceable.

Different isn’t less.
Different is bravery, truth, beauty unfiltered.
And anyone with a heart open wide will see it —
not with judgment, but with wonder.