Let me tell you this
There were times when I knew what to say, which shirt to wear, how to be. Just knew. Answers bloomed like daffs in spring. People saw a woman proficient, in charge – and I was, back then. But I had forgotten that all of these things are like tide – ebby, flowy. First mistake. Comfy and smug, I had overlooked the list-writing, sweat, and standing at doors making myself knock. I forgot to check for the broken elastic of life. Let me tell you it’s hard to be smug with your knickers around your ankles… and no answers within reach.
