Some people don’t understand how broken they are until it’s too late to do anything about it.
I’m one of the lucky ones. I crashed early enough in life that I was forced to face who I really was. Up until my early 30s, I thought I was the Golden Child who would change the world. I had been successful and praised and envied.
And then I crashed. I failed. And the fall was hard.
I really was everything I had thought I was. I was brilliant, talented, driven, creative, empathetic, insightful. Those were the things I put on display. They were the things I wanted everyone to see. I impressed people. I made them love me or envy me or hate me. But I was in denial about the broken parts which I barely acknowledged to myself — the parts which I hid from the world.
At the core of my brokenness, there is a desperate need. A hunger. I can acknowledge it now, but for years, I was so ashamed of my deep hunger for love and attention and approval that I covered it up. I’m sure it showed at times, but I did everything in my power to hide it.
That desperate hunger is still there today. Most of that brokenness will never heal.
Why exactly is it such a big deal to be invited to the White House?
‘I don’t want Mommy to leave, Amber, but that’s her choice’
What’s the use of love if the one who you love doesn’t need you?
‘This path leads to somewhere I think I can finally say, I’m home’
When love finally dies, it’s like a fever breaks and the pain is gone
Society needs storytellers to help make sense of a changing world
My heart longs for a future that’s more real to me than the dim past
Please read this: If you love books and smart women, you might cry, too
Briefly: Comic perfectly captured what I wrote about this weekend