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.

THE McELROY ZOO: Meet Sam, the baby kitten I stole
Accepting joy tomorrow does no good if tomorrow never comes
The moon represents what I seek, but words are all I can offer now
Eviction leaves me sifting through collateral damage of a broken life
Trump bringing Marxism to U.S. better than Marx could’ve hoped
Little boy for whom I was named shows what my mother hoped for
Hearing voice of the one you love can be medicine for hurting heart