His grandmother and mom stood behind me making snarky comments about how American girls dress like such sluts.

I loved a boy. He lived halfway across the world, and I seldom got to see him. When he was here before our first year of university, he stopped talking to me a month into summer. I ran up to his house to help him pack and get answers before he left. His grandmother and mom stood behind me making snarky comments about how American girls dress like such sluts, it’s no wonder that he hadn’t wanted to talk to me. When I asked him, he said the same thing. I was “too American” to love.