Confessions. There are dirty clothes in a pile in the living room. We are eating frozen pizza for dinner. A bag of Target crap hasn’t been unloaded. School work hasn’t been looked at. Most hideous of all – my walls are bare. I’ve lived in this house for six months and the walls are still bare.
It won’t look exactly how I want, so I can’t even start. Can’t. Even. Start. I won’t have people over because it’s not perfect. This is the story in my head; those are not the facts.
therapy professional development the past week, I am scraped bare. I’ve been in a fantasy land and I just took the blue pill (or is it the red one). I have been living in my own personal story land. Now it’s real. Really real.
It makes me wonder what I have created and what has actually happened. What of my life is ‘true’? Crucial Conversations – huge. Mind blowing.
I know this much is true…
It’s time to rewrite my story.