I have always heard there are two sides to every story and the truth is somewhere in the middle. The other night when I was sitting in my friend's mom's amazing backyard enjoying the best cup of tea and getting motherly advice on life. One thing my friend's mom said that got me thinking, "Remember there are three sides to every story, her version, his version and the truth."
I printed out every blog from last year, I sometimes read it... that is my version of what happened. I am sure every person I mention has a completely different version... and is the truth something separate of both accounts? When you go through something that is so painful to both parties, does the truth completely get lost? Does it really matter how it went down? Maya Angelou said it best, "People will forget what you did, people will forget what you said, but people will never forget how you made them feel." I try to carry that with me. I got to a place last year where I probably wasn't looking at anything from anyone else's prospective... not an objective place to be. Not a good place to be.
I am completely in love with my life. I am in a great place to worry about the consequences of my actions, what a great place to be. I was talking climate change with the Vegan, and I asked him "do you ever read the argument against climate change?" He looked at me like I was crazy, there is not another side... I agree, but I have read it... thanks to my old running partner who likes to send me links to Fox News. Moments like that make me realize, I am not the only one that went through last year, it felt like it at the time, but I wasn't. I see that now... and somewhere, there is the truth, but it is not my version and it is not his version, that I know for sure.
