Growing up, life was a certain way. I was driven. I had dreams.
I grew up in a house where those dreams were not welcome, and I dreamed them anyway. I was going to get out. I was going to escape.
Partly through effort, partly through ability, I climbed my way out. I built a new world.
And yet, I think I must have subconsciously felt I still had to earn it.
Did the old Miranda understand that this too was a legacy?
The “old” Miranda. What a silly thing to say. What a thing I might have laughed at back then, because, “People don’t change; they only grow into themselves.”
The old Miranda was a tad bit naive.
And I loved her anyway.
I didn’t think I would have anything to write this month. I guess I was wrong.