Like most women, I have spent far too many decades of my life having no idea of my worth.
Last Friday, in line at Bank of America, attempting to change the signature card on my parent’s account, the photograph of a man with whom I was once obsessed popped up in my phone. My face flushed, my heart pounded. I hit delete. I wondered, did he ever really love me? But before I could finish the thought it was replaced with a more powerful thought. WHO THE HELL CARES? And that is major progress for me.Read More