For the first time in my life, I feel like people like me. Not that I have lived a friendless existence. I have some very close friends. But growing up some friendships ended with meanness and my feelings hurt and I’m wary to trust.
So I’m surprised when someone asks me for coffee, or to join their table at an event, or when a cake arrives on my doorstep on my birthday. Then I have my Sally Field monument, “You like me. You really like me.”
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