I've been broken and will probably be broken again. I'm not talking about the parts you can see, but the ones that hide from the world and try to hide from me.
So much of what happens to us in our lives shapes us. Beginning in childhood each event begins molding us and sometimes breaking us. I don't feel like talking about my broken pieces because I don't like looking at them. I don't like looking at the reasons I do things or don't do things. I think it reminds me of the past's control over me.
I remember what happened last time and, like a child who got burned trying to retrieve the cookies out of the oven, I avoid the situation rather than confronting it or finding a way to rise above it. In reality, a simple pot holder keeps away the burns and gets the cookies, but it's easier and sometimes feels safer to stop making cookies.
It's okay to be broken, it's okay to have things about you that may not be what you would design. You are you. You are amazing, broken pieces and all.
A broken person isn't like a broken dish. We don't throw away broken people. Broken people are more like a broken can of Pillsbury biscuits. Once the can is broken, the biscuits find their way out. After a little heat, they are the most useful they can be.
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