“When we deny out stories, they define us. When we own our stories, we get to write a brave new ending.” ~Brené Brown There was a time when I felt really sorry for myself.
I had good reason to be. My life had been grim. There had been so much tragedy in my life from a young age. I had lost all my grandparents young, lived in a home with and domestic abuse, and to top it all off, my dad killed himself.
I could write you a long list of how life did me wrong. I threw myself a pity party daily in my thirties, with a load of food and wine.Read more on tinybuddha.com