On Turning 47 | Giving Myself Permission to be Myself
I give myself permission to be a living, breathing, learning, failing, succeeding, complicated human being. For if I don’t, there’s no point in celebrating a birthday.
I give myself permission to be a living, breathing, learning, failing, succeeding, complicated human being. For if I don’t, there’s no point in celebrating a birthday.
When Ali, Casey, and I were in college down in central Illinois, we lived in this great place just a block off campus. It was situated at the top of a hill overlooking the town smack dab in the middle of Greek Row, snuggled between the Beta and SAE houses—a modest, three-bedroom house with a front porch and back patio, and yard that made it ideal for barbecues and other themed or not themed parties.