Sitting on the couch while savoring my morning coffee, I caught myself smiling.
I’m not a mom. I’m not a parent. And I have a whole world telling me I’m inferior because of it.
The most perfect life is a present one.
Once something useful becomes too inconvenient, we dispose. A napkin, a car, a goal, a relationship—we bid goodbye at the first sign that we must give up comfort to continue with the attachment.
Happily ever after didn’t turn out so happy for you. While your friends were falling in love, you were falling apart.