The Story Of My Life

Life is tricksy. You think you know where you're going. You make a plan. And then -- whoosh! Something happens. Maybe you get sick. Maybe you lose a loved one. Maybe you have a child. You change jobs. You move someplace you never imagined living. Someone chooses to exit your life, unexpectedly. Someone chooses to become part of your life, equally unexpectedly.

Things change.

Y'all, they're supposed to.

If life wasn't all twisty and turny, it would be like... A bank loan. And all apologies to my banking friends, but you do not want your life to be a series of planned steps and legal jargon and set terms and conditions. Sure, that might be safe? But it's lacking in surprise, whimsy, and the chance to see who you are and what kinds of courage you possess. (I originally wrote "what kind of courage you possess" but you? Are not limited to one kind of courage. You own all kinds of courage and my friend? They all shine.)

I'm thinking about this now because it's the holidays, and I've been invited to a couple of gatherings where I know -- without a doubt -- that there will be questions and judgements about the course my life has taken, and about where I am now. You might be looking at that, too. This time of year seems to invite that.

What I am doing -- and what I hope you can do, too -- is putting down any residual judgement I was still carrying with me about my path. To be inelegant, fuck that noise. I will not and do not feel badly about where I am or how I got here. I'm on this earth like we all are, being perfectly imperfect, as human as hell, and learning as I go.

Because I choose to value my journey, I choose not to value the opinion of anyone who fails to respect it.

I hope you do too. My holiday wish for you is that you stand where you are, feeling your worth, loving your life no matter where it is, and holding tightly to that knowledge that you are fabulous, whether or not anyone else gets it.

It's your story.

It's your life.

Give them hell, y'all.