There is this blog that I read regularly. The girl is awesome. She has three adopted kids, lives on a farm (till recently) and loves corn fields and lonely trees in the middle of farms.
I read this on her blog.
Years and years (and years) ago now, kids were mean to me…and I allowed it
to shape every little thing about myself.
I’ll show them, I seem to say…as if
they’re still paying attention. As if they’re still sitting beside me in the
sixth grade.How horrible to find out everyone else has moved on.
...
Crying out for justice in a world that isn’t listening while at the same
time, turning a blind eye to the world that’s right in front of me seems a bit
counterproductive, no?"
Go read the entire post.
I could not NOT share. I have been there done that - carried hurts with me as if doing so was serving a purpose or my cursing the other person would hurt them back. I have become a little wiser to realize that everytime we recall a hurt, we are hurting ourselves again while the other person, for all we know, maybe partying in Spain. Just saying!
2 comments:
I'm so glad this struck you. My friend Courtney wrote the post and she's a fantastic writer and an all-around great soul. :)
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