As I turn thirty (shudder) I take inventory of my life. House, check Husband, checkChild, checkJob, checkBook deal, check. I should be jumping for joy and on my knees every second of every day thanking God for all the blessings in my life. And I am thankful. At the same time, I wonder who the heck I am. All my life I have been someone’s something. Their daughter, her friend, his girlfriend, his wife, his mom but never just me. I think I am myself when I write, but I write from the point of view of a seventeen year-old girl. Now what the heck does that say about me? I have a theory. (You know I love the theories!)When I was...
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