At home, the word, meaning, or idea was never ever discussed… far from it. Life there was a string of harsh criticism and heartache.
In my mid-teens I became enamored with the newspaper comic strip called “Love Is.” I carefully cut out each little square and taped it inside my bedroom closet door along with the rest of my collection of Love Is comic strips trying to make sense of what love really meant. I gazed longingly at the little figures; their messages of love seemed so ideal.
I wanted their harmonious, altruistic, and thoughtful ways to be part of my life also.
I genuinely thought these little people represented the true example of love and relationship, and that anything else proved to be lack of love, something to run from. Continue reading