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You have only a shadowy conception of who I am. You saw me as weak and pathetic. I saw you as dictatorial and frightened. There was no meeting place between us, then or now. Your anger frightened me and so I lied, which made things worse. “You can’t go through life expecting pity for your miserable childhood,” you yelled.

So I’ve grown up, and when I’m wrong I admit it. And I’m still afraid of righteous anger. And I still wonder if I deserve to be cast from someone’s heart. And I still worry that my best will never be quite good enough.

LBM 4/24/2020

Queen Anne selfie