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Finding My Voice

There are things that used to be true for me. I used to be married. I used to be loud. I used to be in better shape. I used to be conservative. Evangelical. Fundamentalist. Christian. (Though I suppose you could substitute ANY fundamentalist religion here.) Christianity became a sort of caretaker to me from my mid-teens until I left it (at least as I had known it) some time around the age of 40. A long, frightening, terrible struggle brought me to the things I know to be true of me NOW. It took years to unravel ME from the things I simply had espoused. To actually find ME.

I plan to tell the story of that journey. And also to talk about the things that I talk about in therapy. Things like fear and courage and authenticity. How I felt like I lost any right to speak (kind of even to BE) and then I how I found a new voice. One that felt like mine. And one that I presume I continue to evolve into while I am still breathing.

I LITERALLY would not have survived without the tiny handful of people who gave me permission to crumble. They held the light for me while I was stumbling around. They either handed me bricks to build with, laid bricks for me, or cheered me on as they watched the rebuilding.

May I pay it forward.

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