I see a sign slip past almost insignificantly until I read the words “Hope Valley”.
I do not see myself as a problem. I do not need to be fixed. I think I am a puzzle piece that ended up in a bag of mixed up puzzle pieces, who are simply trying to work out what the riot of reds, a sweep of blues, and garish purples amount to. It’s a hard job for anyone to do, really.
We need to see our whole complete teen, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty something selves and we need to love each and every version of us.