Writing My Storybook Ending
Back in my early twenties, I loved reading novels. But I’d only choose books with predictably happy endings. This must have frustrated my mom, the librarian. To her, books shouldn’t be limited by perfect ending boundaries. The way I saw it, if I wanted to relax with a book, the ending needed to be happy. Of course, I wanted my own perfect storybook ending, but my chances weren’t increased because I had read dozens of perfect examples. My world of fiction couldn’t change my own reality. My life story was mine to write—and all of its chapters and its ending would largely depend on me. Life happens and I can’t control all the action, but what I can control is my reaction. Often my reaction is what can either take away or bring me joy. Why is it that I can look back and remember my past with fondness even though my life had actually been far from perfect? It’s the rearview mirror perspective. Things aren’t as big in the rearview mirror—those old problems have reso...