So after posting that yesterday, I was pretty nervous. It wasn’t really that I thought people would be mean, just that… I wondered what they’d think. And I was rather startled that I had just said that. On the internet. Where all kinds of people–people I know, people I don’t, people I’m going to see on Sunday–will read it.
But I’m glad I did.
As I thought about what I had written, I realized that whether or not I like it, and whether or not other people like it, that is part of my story. And there’s no point in denying it, in acting like those very influential chapters of my life don’t exist. Of course I don’t need to walk around announcing to everyone that the man I hoped to marry is in prison–but I also don’t need to pretend it never happened. I need to accept it and learn from it.
Everyone has a story. They are all different, they all have hard parts, and they all have some weirdness. What is your story?