Seeing old photographs of myself feel like reminiscing about an old friend. There's the time I was free as a bird, traveling the world for months and months on end; and the time that I was releasing so much from my youth; and in a few I'm growing at warp speed because of the people who were in my life teaching me so much without even trying to teach me; there's the one with drugs and alcohol (sorry Mom! Love you! I'm healthy now!); and the ones where I was in suuuuuch a dark place but was too young to know what that meant; there's the angry one (SO SO ANGRY!); and then there's when I became a Mom and shut down for a couple years before I could emerge with clarity again.

I love all those versions of me, even the ones that were dark. I don't miss them, even the ones that were light. They all carried me for a while, and then they were done. Dissipated, dissolved, moved aside for the next one to get to work. It happens over and over and over (and over again). My job was just to keep letting her go, so I could begin again. Even the dark ones, maybe *especially* the dark ones, held so much growth for me. Makes me wonder who the hell I'm gonna be in another 15 years? I kinda can't wait to find out.

You ever think about all the versions of yourself you've been?