Remembering that everyone has a story

Been examining these ‘I’m whiskey in a Starbucks cup at an all American Dream BBQ’ awkward, insecurities. Funny how I’ve been working so hard to get at this point for so long that I never took a breath to think about how I might feel when I got there.

Feeling a bit better after talking to John and a friend who has also overcome a lot to get where they are, and felt out of place with relatable mixed feelings. They helped me remember that lots, if not most people, have a story to some extent and that life hasn’t actually been smooth for the vast majority of people even if the suburb postcard implies otherwise.

Side note: Strange to think that half a mill in this housing market doesn’t get you into ‘that nice’ of a neighborhood 🫣😅

Maybe someday there’ll be someone new to the neighborhood glancing my white picket fence over assuming it was a generic, cushy journey?

I’m vaguely remembering that I felt like this at otger turning points.. and.. it all turned out fine. Trying to remember that the reason I don’t have any roots/attachments is because that’s a series of decisions I made out of foresight, not something that was beyond my control/influence.

And… At least this time around I’m not entering the wilds alone and can turn to John for a hug ❤️