I’ve been affirmed by some close peeps lately. The ones that I have found that I am brave enough to say what if to and not worry about what they will think. I eat up their words of encouragement like my puppy Monroe waiting patiently for me to drop meat when I cook. I also know that if my what if sounded lame, they would tell me. It makes their words even sweeter.
When I was a little girl, if my Grandma Freda called me a storyteller, it was usually a bad thing. It usually meant I was telling a fib.
Today, I’m not ashamed to say my heart grows inside my chest every time I hear the words:
Julie you are a storyteller.