I never want to offend anyone. Whether it’s via my blog or during an in-person interaction, it is never my intent. Inevitably, it happens.
One of my oldest and dearest friends recently told me that she is sometimes offended when reading my posts. First, I love that she can be open with me and start this conversation. Second, of course, I would never want her to feel this way. Third, it gave me an opportunity to examine what I’m projecting. Is it positive? Is it negative? I imagine it must be different for everyone reading.
When I read opinion pieces on other blogs or news sources, my reaction often depends on my own mood or sensitivities. When I write, I aim to be totally authentic. I feel I’m doing you all a disservice if I’m not. Isn’t this about sharing truthful information? My posts are derived solely from my own personal experience. Everyone else’s experience is one hundred percent their own.
I understand that by writing my views, thoughts and feelings here, I set myself up for judgement. My opinions and decisions are likely criticized. That’s the price I pay. I don’t want anyone to think that my comments are a reflection of judgement I’m passing on them or anyone else (unless it’s on the Real Housewives, because I totally judge them for the train wrecks they are and I love them for it, too).
So it came as a huge shock and took me by surprise when my friend admitted her feelings. We have led dissimilar lives since we graduated college. I went into a scientific field, she did not. She got her masters, I did not. I got married and popped out two kids. She hasn’t crossed that bridge yet. In no way do I judge her for not making the same decisions I made. I was lucky enough to meet my husband in high school, so it was somewhat inevitable that we would get married at a younger age than most of our friends. We also wanted to start a family early. Is this the only way to go? No. Is it the right way to go? Maybe for some, but not for others.
I don’t regret any decision I’ve ever made (except my prom dress that was totally ill-fitting and pretty hideous). I don’t wish I could turn back time and have a do-over. It’s like the Time Travelers Wife or even Back to the Future (I prefer the first and original version). You can’t go back and change things because life could take a totally different course if you had made a left instead of a right at that last intersection. If I hadn’t married my husband when I did, had our children when we did and pumped blood when I was breastfeeding, the timing wouldn’t have led me to having had the double mastectomy already. I could have already been too late. I could have already had cancer by the time I found out about the BRCA gene. It’s incredible heady and bizarre to think of it that way.
I truly believe that everyone’s path has its own purpose. You make decisions that are right for you and hopefully act with good intentions for everyone else. As long as you don’t harm yourself or anyone else, there’s no judgement from me.

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