Thankful for the chance to start over.
First time I had sex, I was raped.
First marriage failed.
First gymnastics meet, I dislocated my elbow.
First job in my field, teaching English, was perhaps the worst job I’ve ever had in my life.
*Cue Debbie Downer waaah waaaah.*
Clearly, my track record of firsts isn’t necessarily full of gold star stickers and smiley faces.
That’s just not been my life experience.
Until I met my husband. I’m not sure, but I suspect that God has anointed him with an innate sense of what I need and the uncanny ability to meet my needs without my saying a word.
When I met him, things changed.
In reality, I think my perspective simply switched gears, probably thanks to three years in my twelve-step recovery program. I started noticing every first in our relationship, and I’d never done that before. I began to cherish all our moments.
First time we…
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