Everyone has their own unique place or environment where the best version of themselves suddenly shines through. As a kid, mine was always the farm.
By 6 years old, I could stand up to an ornery goat without getting charged. At 8 years old I could take a blow from the spurs of the meanest rooster and cuddle the aggression out of him. At the farm, I felt like the Steve Erwin of goats and chickens: able to handle anything. At the farm, I felt like me.
Unfortunately this feeling had a way of fizzling out the second I walked through the doors of my eighth grade. That specific year, every girl in my class decided that I would be the one they chose to bully.
In school it didn’t matter how comfortable I was staring down an aggressive goat because in the face of a mean 13-year-old girl I … Read the rest