I never lost the child within. She’s right here next to me. Gathering trinkets on walks. Stones that peak interest, pine needles that prickle on my cheek, pods yet opened, full of possibility and promise of another season.
Feathers of hawk, abandoned hornets nests, berries artistically encased in ice – saved in the freezer, crimson leaf pressed in the pages of the Mother Earth catalogue, brown, striped seeds of mystery.
Recuerdos, mementos for recalling yesterdays, telling the earth’s story one tchotchke at a time. Don’t lose the child within. He/she is counting on you.
There are so many people in your same situation. Speak your truth. Say it anyway. Don’t ever feel silly or too angry or like you’re gloating or complaining. 
People come into our lives. They may be forgettable. 
Apparently I haven’t figured out how to exist without offending fragile egos. Especially on social media. 
“She was raised to be hard on herself.
A Fish Named Karen 