I’m loud. I have opinions. I say what I’m thinking and most times I forget to sugar coat it. I work hard. I have goals. I have dreams. I have confidence in myself. I ask questions, I seek to understand and I am teachable.
I don’t need anyone. I rarely ask for help. I can do it by my own self. I don’t need people. I’m comfortable alone. Until I’m not.
I have planned parties for people who don’t like me. I have fed mouths who speak badly of me. I’ve given to those without and I’ve been taken advantage of by those with more. I have friends who are family and family I have unfriended.
The first 45, I spent navigating everyone else’s crazy. Hearing so many words spoken behind my back. Yanking knives out of my back. Helping who emptied my bucket and never refilled. And I’m done. I’m walking away from what doesn’t serve me. I didn’t talk to my mom for three years, she gave in first, she died. I don’t give up easily.
