I truly believed, somewhat naively, that when I hit
mid-life, I would always back myself.
Self-doubt would be a stranger to me and well planted in my
That the tortuous and constant berating of oneself would
have taken a permanent vacation leaving me to thrive on my own.
I would step confidently into the world with nothing but
words of self-love circling my now unoccupied head.
Well, that is not the case.