MK, my life isn’t without its fair share of pain, hurt, heartbreak, assholes, asswipes, ridiculous situations, all of which I created. PARTS of my life are a dream. And absolutely, boy did that take work. However, I’d be right liar if I tried to paint a picture that all is well. I have nearly four thousand articles that speak to some of the horrors I’ve borne (multiple rapes) and some of the shitheels I’ve dated. LIke all things, it’s a mix. A dream, with its fair share of nightmares. No carefully curated Instagram life here. It’s raw, and if I am ever in doubt, here, lemme put my teeth in a cup and remind myself- if I made it this far, I paid for it, and I paid for in ways I would NEVER wish on anyone else. And then I laugh, stick ’em back in, go for a run, then start planning the next adventure. Which, BTW is already underway. I am heading back to Mongolia in late August: reindeer and camel riding and another home stay. I can’t imagine living life worried about a wrinkle or a birthmark, or undergoing procedures when those funds will pay for me to ride in Uruguay over Christmas. We all have priorities. Those are mine. They aren’ everyone’s. But I might posit that in some ways I am perhaps a touch freer than many. Keep writing. It’s very, very relevant.