A beginning.

I am a girl with a story to tell. The problem with stories is that some are harder to tell than others. Some have pretty pink bows on them. They are usually sparkly and are wrapped up just right so that others can watch and wish they had them. They are stories of people who have it all together, who always manage to look all together in a place where everything seems just right. The problem with pretty pink bows is that in all their glamour, there is something real underneath. Even if no one can see it, it is there. Similar to the empty feeling readers often get after reading the latest issue of ‘Cosmopolitan’ or ‘Vogue’, stories with pretty pink bows leave readers feeling envious of those who are more beautiful, who have more love in their life or who have more money. That is not my story. I have no pretty pink bow. My story is a lot harder to tell.