I’ve been in therapy for over 10 years, and with 2 different therapists I can safely say my feet are planted on the ground. Sometimes cemented. Thank God for childlike hearts in my life who keep my wings alive.
No matter how much I try, I can’t remember too much of my childhood. I rely on other people’s stories to remind me where I was, what I did, what I said, what happened.
In Australia, I wanted to be American. In America, I hold tight in keeping the Ozzie in me alive.
I wish I could do it all.
There’s a rumbling inside, I keep carving at the ice anticipating a shape will emerge.