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I love this book. It speaks to me so well. So much, that I’m reading it again—for the third time. While taking the light rail this morning I read: ”When we let ourselves feel, our inner self transforms. But here’s the rub: Destruction is essential to construction. If we want to build the new, we must be willing to let the old burn. We must be committed to holding on to nothing but the truth. We must decide that if the truth inside us can burn a belief, a family structure, a business, a religion, an industry—it should have been ashes yesterday. At first it’s very scary. Because once we feel, know, and dare to imagine more for ourselves, we cannot unfeel, unknow, or unimagine. There is no going back. We are launched into the abyss—the space between the not-true-enough life we’re living and the truer one that exists only inside us. So we say, “It’s safer to stay here. Even if it’s not true enough, maybe it’s good enough.” But good enough is what makes people drink too much and snark too much and become bitter and sick and live in quiet desperation until they lie on their deathbed and wonder: What kind of life/relationship/family/world might I have created if I’d been braver?” it is freaking scary to push forward out of our comfort zones. Her sentence about the deathbed came to me years ago. Then, I thought it was about not being in or finding a fulfilling career. I know now that it was about living and experiencing my authenticity. Back to the light rail. Have a great day!

Dear Emma, Really resonated to what you had to say. Am in the process of separating myself from my destructive brothers. If I continue to allow them to abuse me, especially in front of the children and grandchildren, I am modeling codependent behavior. Plus, when healthy people observe such behavior, they want nothing to do with me. Also, I live in an a public housing apartment complex for seniors and disabled people. It is amazing how bitter most of them are, hating themselves for living inauthentic lives, leaving behind a broken trail of dreams and relationships. It is never too late . . . As my dear mother used to say, may God rest her soul, "when there's life, there's hope . . . " Yours in Sisterhood, Monica