Thanks, w_i.

Sometimes I regret sharing because I'm afraid I come off as self-absorbed. Like, who really cares OB, about your stuff. Oh woe is me, no one cared about little Blossom. Boo hoo.

But other times when I'm not berating myself, I think perhaps I'm being a voice for those who can't find theirs.

But mostly, I relate BIG TIME to what Hunny said about how she feels her stuff -- "wasn't that bad" -- because that's exactly how I feel about mine. I almost feel ridiculous for even writing about it.

Our emotional baggage is never the same inside or out, but when you line it up side by side, baggage is baggage. A lot of it looks the same from a distance. So much so that you have to seek out your name tag, or the colorful piece of ribbon you used to mark it. Only then can you claim it as your own.