Who I am not
I think, sometimes, that it is just as important to be reminded of who we are not as who we are. I am not an East Coast girl. I used to think of myself as a transplant, enjoying where I live now but not truly belonging. But that doesn't mean I belong back here. I am not a perfect person. I can try to be kind, I can try to be nonjudgmental, I can do my damndest not to be cruel. But in the end, I fail sometimes. And that's ok. I am not a traditional person. Oh gods, am I not a traditional person. I don't what, exactly, a traditional person is, but I know I am not it. I love my family, I love my past, but I love me now more. I am not ok with confrontation. Apparently I have never been ok with confrontation. My mom told me a story yesterday of me being a newborn, and crying as newborns do. Except when she leaned in towards me and said Sarah, in a disapproving tone, I got huge eyes and shut up, snivelling a little but no longer wailing. Her and my dad looked at each other in...