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.

My need to make others perfect reflects my fear I’m not in control
Eviction moratorium is pure theft; it’s a sign of creeping socialism
Letting go of dead dreams can lead to path you need to follow
Petty politics as usual just might be Chris Christie’s bridge to obscurity
When Demopublicans and Republicrats clash, you lose
Little blonde cousins are sometimes perfect antidote for life’s bleak days
What if a key to knowing what to do is built into everybody’s gut?
Smallest ray of hope can make us feel a change we need is coming