Saturday, April 21, 2018
K.
She didn’t get much from me. That glorious red mane is the legacy of a long-dead ancestor. Clear skin through adolescence? Not me. Beautiful singing voice? Definitely not me. Ruthless minimalism? Nope. I’m learning that from her. She got my nose (sorry, Kiddo). And somehow, despite all her gifts, she got my self-doubt.
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Catching up day 3
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I've slowly abandoned facebook. Mostly. I still have my business page, and I can't leave that since most of my orders come from ther...
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One of K.’s friends is gender-queer. Another is pansexual. I need to consult a dictionary after I meet them, but I couldn’t imagine better f...
I'm sure it's not your self-doubt. Self-doubt is rampant. Hard to imagine, though, when I look at her dazzling image.
ReplyDeleteGood point, Susan!
DeleteYeah, damn that self-doubt. I know few women that don't have it.
ReplyDeleteDitto. Ditto.
ReplyDeleteDitto.
ReplyDeleteSelf-doubt was what lurked under hope in Pandora's box.
ReplyDelete