I’m doing a challenge to blog every day in May. Today’s prompt is “The story of your life in 250 words or less.”
I don’t know how to fit 33 years into 250 words, but here goes:
I grew up a poor black child….. no wait, that was Steve Martin in The Jerk.
Okay okay. I can try to be serious for like five minutes.
I’ve never been good at talking about my life. Confusing, I know, because I blog, but I blog about the things that I don’t mind sharing. I don’t want to talk about life pre-age-28 or so, because it’s not so pretty, and it’s not me anymore. I’m in a new marriage, in a new state, with a new house, new pets, nearly new everything.
This life does not feel like that life, because this life isn’t that life. This life is better. This life is happier, more fulfilling, less scary, and more stable.
This life has less abuse.
This life has laughter filling quiet moments, while the past life had fear that forced silence.
This life has wonder, adventure, and good wine.
This life has date nights and love notes.
The past life had isolation and betrayal.
I don’t want to be a champion for abused women by talking about abuse. I don’t want to be an advocate. I just want to enjoy this life that I have now, so that’s the life you hear about here. That’s the stories you’ll be getting from me.
This life is the life I’ve made for myself, and it is absolutely the best life for me, full of love and laughter and a whole lot of dog hair.
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