Our lives are our stories, each day a fresh new page, each season a whole new chapter. Our parenting chapters become the beginning of our children's stories in glorious, dog-eared, mud-stained, daisy-chain pages of sunshine-filled days and wish-on-a-star nights and shared struggles and triumphs and tears and laughter. Where their stories go from there is up to them, but where they begin is up to us.

Tell your story. Shout it. Write it. Whisper it if you have to. But tell it. Some won't understand it. Some will outright reject it. But many will thank you for it. And then the mostmagical thing will happen. One by one, voices will start whispering, 'Me, too.'And your tribe will gather. And you will never feel alone again.

Don't hide your scars, your stretch marks, your laugh lines, your calloused hands. They are your life story, telling of struggles won and lost, challenges faced, losses overcome, life grown and birthed and nurtured, hard work accomplished, stars reached for, hopes dashed, dreams realized, rock bottoms and mountain tops.They tell the story of your one amazing, awful, beautiful life written in the curves and lines of extraordinary, miraculous, beautiful you.

Beauty is not found in uniformity,nor value in conformity. It is in ourcolors and quirks and flaws and scarsthat true beauty and value unfold,because that is where our stories are told.

Forget that old adage 'forgive and forget.' It's an impossible standard. The human heart never forgets its pain. We can and often do choose to forgive and heal and move on. But the scars remain. Like words pounded out on an old typewriter leave impressions that can never truly be erased, the heart remembers.