In first grade I was a super anxious kid. I didn’t want to go outside at recess because I didn’t want to lose my way back to the classroom. Until I was about 9, except for my grandparents’ house, sleepovers weren’t happening. I wasn’t interested in being away from home. I couldn’t handle it.
Last May I stood alone in Grand Central Station and watched people go by – miles and miles away from where I grew up. I thought about the little girl that I was (and the grownup version of me, pre-Google Maps!), who panicked about getting lost. When I hopped on the subway and navigated my way back to the hotel room where I was staying (also, ALONE) I knew that she was proud of me.
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