I never tell that story. I hate it. Hate, hate, hate it. I refuse to let my past explain my present. I grew up, I grew up stronger, I overcame it. End of story. From the time I was old enough to realize that my problems were not my fault, I'd decided not to shift the blame to all of those foster families, but to get rid of it. Throw it out. Move on. I could imagine no fate worse than becoming someone who tells the story of her dysfunctional childhood to every stranger on the bus. If I did well in life, I wanted people to say I did well, not that I did well "all things considered." My past was a private obstacle, not a public excuse.
( Kelley Armstrong )
[ Stolen ]
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