I bounded down the stairs to show my mom my new frilly red dress.
“Oh Kimmi! You look so pretty! That is such a pretty red dress!”
I stopped mid-twirl, put my hands on my four-year-old hips, and looked at her accusingly. “You don’t like my blue dress?” I asked.
Flash-forward 30 years, and that easily hurt, overly dramatic little girl has become an easily hurt, overly dramatic woman. I’m not sure why, but I have always jumped to conclusions and distorted the truth, turning compliments into insults and finding ways to feel slighted in any kind of situation or exchange. Keep reading »
