Once, I hurtled back to myself at age seven. The house smelled like ground beef frying in butter. The brown refrigerator made that sucking-open noise. Ice cream frosted in a squat cardboard box. Don’t ask me how I went back. Ask me what I saw. I found seven-year-old me, wondering what it would be like to be included in the world, to be seen for who I truly was. People assumed so much about me, told me they knew more, so I figured I knew less. But when I flipped back all that time, I whispered in my little ear: Trust yourself. Listen to that still small voice. You already know.
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Wow!!!
Yes. 👏