I am from a large family (my mom is the second oldest of twelve children), and a small town (Sublimity, Oregon, where during the years I was growing up there, the population was never more than 835).  In both places, the family and the town, I was cherished.  If I ever questioned my worth, I just asked the nearest person and they told me how wonderful I was.  I was supported so completely that my own strength was unnecessary, but it was there none the less, burning in my belly—or was that burning the lie that I was fed, that I “could be anything I wanted to be”?  Whatever it was, I didn’t trust it to carry me.  There was a part of me that sincerely doubted that I could make it on my own.


© Salahub 2003