I hear the buzz phrase, “Your past does not define you.” Even I thought this sounded like a good mantra. At first. I might have even said it a few times. But, my past DOES define me. For better or worse.
Running from your past is like that old saying, “Going nowhere in a hurry.” You can’t forward your future until you address the past.
I grew up poor. Near a small town, in the country on 20 acres, graduated from a class of 65 people.
Maybe not poor. Maybe just so far in debt that I had to choose between difficult things. And, I didn’t wear name brand clothes. My mom made most of my clothes by hand. That, at least, put me in a different category.
Other category pushers:
My father was emotionally and physically (infrequently) abusive. I was overweight (of course). Often teased. Often at the bottom…
View original post 453 more words