Perspective

I am meeting my first student on my first day at a therapeutic riding center. Like me, Elli has vibrant red hair. She's petite with glasses and clearly very friendly because we just met and she has no lack for words. As we prep for the ride I learn bits and pieces about her. She's been riding for 20-something years. She's 23 years old. She's a writer - working on her first book. And she hates "going down the hill" during her ride.

Nine Dollars.

I wrote this on March 14th, but ultimately decided to wait a while before I shared it with you all. It's definitely emotionally charged and a personal look into my brain, so I wanted to give myself a little space before I talked about it all. That time has passed and now I'm ready to share my experience with March 14, 2019. Maybe you've had an experience of this sort in your own life?

True to you.

I always seem to lose it on the therapy couch. There is something about a safe space, a neutral third-party, and a fresh box of tissues that just makes me… tell the truth. I tell the truth with my thoughts, my emotions, and my words. Tell the truth. Tell the truth. Tell the truth. Tell the truth.