It was the fall of 1986, I was a freshman in college. He’d met all of my friends on my freshman hall first. He was in the dorm right next door. Now messages, do they even exist anymore? Sigh. I remember how much I soaked up the attention I got from him, the sense that maybe I wasn’t that hard to love after all. He offered something that felt like an antidote to what I had, offered something I didn’t have. I should have known it was kind of like the Flinstones at the drive in, a big hunk of something that was about to tip my car over. It’s okay, it’s okay, don’t be ashamed I tell myself, it was necessary. The beginning of my search for balance and self-acceptance. It continues today, as I give Flinstones vitamins to the children I had to another man who the fates gave me to provide an even bigger unbalancing, a bigger gift, in a better disguise. I think, along the way, I’m learning to love myself. God, I hope my children learn that lesson from me. Flinstones vitamins take on new meaning. I don’t actually give them those vitamins, but I suppose I’m inventing my own. A daily dose of self love however messy or unromantic it looks, is the best I have to give.