Since I can remember, I always wanted to be the best. The most well-liked. The smartest. The prettiest. This need to be loved and praised cycled between extreme highs and lows that left me feeling utterly exhausted.
I am not a parent. My reproductive organs are in appropriate working order and I am explicitly stating that I decisively do not want to have children. Ever. But children are not extraterrestrial to my “greenhorn” non-parent being.
I was pouring from an empty glass; and if it wasn't bad enough that my kids, my husband, and myself were getting scraps, but now the online community I had created was as well. I couldn’t hide from it anymore, I needed a change.
I’m not saying it’s going to be easy. Especially because bending over to touch my toes these days is not considered easy. So leaving the person you love falls under the category of “hard things life throws at you.”
I remember the fear I felt sitting in the waiting room filling out the papers with my sister, who looked even more terrified. As she was driving me back to my dorm, 5-6 protestors pushed their signs into the air, letting me know I was going to hell.