so, if something I post is about a high school experience and the next is about when I turned eight, know that I am a work in progress.
Sure enough, the side mirror slammed into the mailbox and immediately fell off it’s hinges. I hit the brakes and felt the rush of panic and remorse come over me.
I fell to the ground in shock. My girlfriends and I stared at each other in horror and helplessness. What were we supposed to do now? How did this happen?
To my birth dad.
To my adopted dad.
To all my other dads.
Happy Father’s Day.
But, now I had a person and a voice connected to those letters that had been written to me so many times before, and now I had a picture of all of us. Together.
So, to the men who told me I couldn’t and to the people who told me I’m not worthy, I have only five words for you: I’m not less than you.