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There is no shame in staying in, curling up with your dog, and eating some pasta, and finishing work at 8, and going to bed early…when all your friends—when everyone—is going out.
There is no shame in being a harried mom or dad, and doing your best, which is always pretty damn good, but never good enough.
There is no shame in failing. There is no shame in failing 20 times a day. 20? How’s 200?
There is no shame in dating at the age of Whatever with your child and his two children and first marriages gone bust, despite best intentions, the perfect wedding day photos all gone south.
There is no shame in looking like this, or that, or in having made mistakes. We all make mistakes. Your mom told you that.
There is no shame in privilege, if we’re aware of it and use it to be some real help. There is no shame in lacking privilege–your mom wasn’t there, say, to tell you that.
You know this. There’s no shame in failing. You know this.
Our job: our only job: is to try. That’s the practice. To try to be kind, to care, to try to be brave, to step forward, to try to be open, to have that hard conversation.
We must be kind.
That’s our only job.
Our only job is to care about others. And “others” includes you, me, our fragile imperfect selfish speedy sweet hearts.
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