Recently, because of an incredibly supportive significant other, I've started coming to terms with what it has meant in my life to be the daughter of a mother with severe mental illness, to be the sister of a woman with multiple handicaps, to be a smarter-than-average girl/woman, to be a girl/woman who had a lot of secrets, mostly family ones that she was expected to keep, to be a girl/woman who was bullied for being smart and/or less than attractive, to be a girl/woman who became "attractive" late in life and what that means in our society, and so many other things that I just thought I had to live with and didn't talk about it. And now I've been given permission to talk about it, and think about it, and admit it to myself, and bring it to light so it can die a healthy death. And I'm terrified. I'm terrified because I'm afraid of becoming that person who is defined by her problems. I'm afraid of being seen as a victim. I'm afraid of saying ...
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