In hindsight, I wish I had celebrated my body more, found a calling, an interest. But I always felt, was made to feel…not enough, never…enough., the things I found of interest were not worth time.
The first fifteen years of gaslighting that was Mother filled every crevice. Sixteen years with the inattention of a husband committed only to himself shied me off connecting after it was done.
I’m hindsight, the continuance of the two years between should have been longer. At 53 I still struggle acknowledging my accomplishments and shrink at compliments from others.
In hindsight is not a healthy place to live, but the present can be difficult to celebrate.
