Dignity Isn’t a Countdown: When “Safety” Starts Feeling Like Control

night?

Then, one morning, I sat at my kitchen table with my coffee and watched the sun hit the front porch. And it hit me: I am not abandoned. I am not forgotten. I am free.

I can still think clearly. I write my own checks for the electric bill. I decide what happens in my day.

And my day is beautiful: Breakfast at noon if I feel like it. Reading a book continue reading …