My life has been a lot less stressful since I found the humility to admit that I’m often a fool.
There was a time when I was afraid of what other people might think. I wouldn’t have put it that way, but if you look at the way I acted, it’s pretty clear. What if people didn’t recognize how smart I am? What if people saw me change my mind about something and realized that I’d been wrong before?
I wanted people to believe I was completely consistent. If I had once said something, I felt obligated to defend it, because admitting I’d been wrong might imply I could still be wrong about other things.
So I pretended I had things figured out, even when I felt foolish inside.

Slow death of painful past leaves me trapped in fog of depression
Old photos have me thinking about who I was then, how far I’ve come
Assassin or patsy? How can you trust any of the players in this case?
The more I see of death, the more determined I am to live life fully
Laughing at the ‘rapture cult’? Those who believe in the state are no different
When people push inner buttons, it’s easy to spiral down into dark
Painful longing is too powerful to express heart’s anguish in words
Evil media bias? It depends on which lens you’re looking through that day